Coming Undone
by WickedAngel23
Summary: ON HIATUS Torn apart by one mistake, six years of secrecy, deception and denial have passed between them but everything threatens to reveal itself when Edward storms back into Bella's life and she realizes that it's never been over. Not by a long shot. AH
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:  
It feels like this story has been knocking around in my head for ages and I've been dying to get it out, so here goes nothing. Fragile Human - you are the best!! I can't wait to embark on this epic journey with you ;)**  
**Um... yeah, M for a reason. That means language, lemony goodness and some dark themes, including violence. It's AU/AH.**

**~*~Edward~*~**

"Dude, listen to this." Emmett threw himself down on the workout bench closest to my station, flipping through the pages of a magazine as he did so. He bobbed his head unconsciously along with the music blasting from the speakers, humming the lyrics under his breath as he tried to find what he was looking for.

I upped the speed on the treadmill in front of me, reveling in the burn of my muscles. I'd been in the private gym since six this morning, working off the excess energy that had been building for days. I hated the downtime I had between jobs — I preferred to be active 24/7, on full alert.

"Okay, got it." Emmett cleared his throat, ignoring the few looks he received. The other guys in the gym were listening in curiously, obviously expecting something "seriously cool" from Aro's favorite boys.

_Favorite_ was pushing it a little. We were certainly the youngest boys that had ever made Aro's Elite but that was just because Emmett and I worked brilliantly as a team. In a world where you struggled to trust anyone on a job, our friendship had really paid off. I would trust Emmett McCarty with my life.

"It's not another documentation of one of your exploits again, is it?" I asked dryly, cocking a brow at him. "You know Aro hates that shit."

At the mention of Aro's name, several faces began to stare unabashedly in our direction. Okay, so maybe "favorite" wasn't _that_ much of an exaggeration. Emmett and I worked for an agency known as The Volturi. They were a secret organization who specialized in protecting people — essentially, we were bodyguards — but we were usually only employed when there was a specific threat. We tracked down potential killers and stalkers and we eliminated the threat, as well as keeping our subjects safe.

There were different levels in the agency and the only people that knew The Boss, Aro, personally were the Elite. The others got their orders from Aro's Seconds, Caius and Marcus. To know Aro was a privilege that very few had.

"Actually, bro — it's _your_ exploits that they've documented this time," Emmett grinned. He slapped the magazine article over the electronic console on the treadmill and I was forced to slow the machine down to read the heading:

"RUSSIAN POP-TART TANYA DENALI'S _**VERY**_ PERSONAL BODYGUARD…"

I shoved the magazine away in disgust. The picture accompanying the article showed the beautiful singer, Tanya Denali, her face bright with laughter and yet still maintaining a seductive "come hither" look, as she was pulled toward a waiting limo by yours truly. Of course, you couldn't actually _tell_ it was me. My face was hidden by the hood of my black jacket, but since Emmett and I had been photographed with Ms. Denali before, the magazine had automatically jumped to conclusions. Although I was pretty sure that Emmett had been behind us, the picture had cut him out.

"I think "pop-tart" was a nice touch," Emmett mused, his lips quirking in amusement.

"You'd swear I was dragging her off for a midnight rendezvous at a motel room, not saving her life," I muttered. "Of course, she probably _paid_ them to think that."

"Edward, even _she's_ not that desperate," Emmett laughed.

"Maybe," I shrugged. "But it's not like she'd want it broadcast that I refused her, would she?"

"I'm still not convinced that you _didn't_ jump on that shit, Edward," Emmett said seriously. "You fuck everyone else."

I shot Emmett a dark look, knocking off the treadmill. I grabbed a towel from the bench, rubbing my face roughly. I felt sticky and damp and badly in need of a shower. "I don't ever fuck a subject, Em," I reminded him.

Emmett rolled his eyes. I could tell that he didn't believe me, but I didn't press the issue. Thinking about Tanya Denali made me nauseous. Not because she wasn't beautiful or fuckable, but mostly because she took every opportunity to flaunt it in my face. Ms. Denali refused to believe that I was one man she wasn't going to have and had taken every available chance to try and make me jealous or seduce me. Escaping her clutches had been a more difficult job than tracking down the sadistic stalker that had been tormenting her for months. By the time we caught up with him, I had actually been considering setting the guy on her.

But then I wouldn't have gotten paid.

"Do you want to hang out at the range for awhile?" Emmett suggested as he flung the magazine in the direction of the trashcan. "We could go out later. There's a new bar opening in the city."

"You do realize," I started, "that we've been in London for what — a year now? And the only places I've been are here and whatever bars you've discovered on your nights off."

Emmett eyed me doubtfully. "Would you rather go sight-seeing?" he asked tentatively, like he questioned my sanity. "I don't know, dude. I'm telling you, there's nothing like good English pussy. It's like being inside a James Bond movie or some shit like that. They see your gun and they don't even expect you to call them back."

"I can't believe you need a line like _'this could be my last night on earth'_ to get girls," I mocked.

Emmett scowled at me. "Not all of us can look like you, pretty boy."

"You think I'm pretty?" I grinned teasingly.

"Naw, it's just the accent, dude." We both turned toward James, another one of the Elite. Unlike the others, he'd never been impressed that Emmett and I had risen so fast through the ranks, but he was definitely jealous. He was Caius's pet — he had sweet-talked his way into being Caius's favorite and Caius had put in a good word for him when Aro had been choosing members to promote.

My position in the agency wasn't the only thing that James was jealous of — if I was a pretty boy, then James was a _very_ ugly boy. He had long, dirty blond hair and a squashed face that reminded me of a pug. His body, like the rest of ours, was toned and muscular, built to the extreme thanks to our intense training, but that was about the only attractive asset he possessed.

"He's kind of right," Felix, one of Emmett's drinking buddies, cut in. He stared at me with a half-apologetic, half-amused grin. "I mean, I've lost count of the times I've lost a hot piece of ass because you opened your mouth."

I grinned at him, wrapping my towel around my neck. "That's not the only reason you lost 'em, mate."

The others laughed. The Volturi was made up of hundreds of ethnicities and the fact that I had been born and raised in England until I was fifteen was actually relatively normal. I had dual citizenship in the U.S. as well as here which made it a hell of a lot easier to do my job and something that Aro capitalized on frequently.

The door to the gym swung open suddenly and everyone fell silent as Caius stepped inside, his face like stone. He was wearing a long, black and red cloak with the Volturi crest on the front and it made him look like royalty. I half expected a legion of bodyguards to follow him into the room, but everyone knew that Caius had been one of the first put through Aro's training program and he was as skilled, if not more than the rest of us.

James set down the weights he'd been lifting, jumping to his feet like an overeager puppy, but Caius walked right by him, his cold, dark eyes focused on me.

"… _Cullen's in for it now,_" I heard someone mutter. "_Bet Aro's not happy with Ms. Fuck—Me Denali's magazine article…"_

I would have agreed with their assessment if it hadn't been _Caius_ that was coming toward me. Aro would definitely have chosen to seek me out himself if he had had issues with the story. I watched, deadly curious, as Caius lifted his hand, palm upwards, and curled two fingers inward twice, beckoning for me to follow him.

I followed obediently, silently wishing that I'd gotten as far as the showers before Caius had come looking for me. I was practically drenched in sweat — not the best look for someone in the presence of Aro's second in command.

"You too, McCarty," Caius called over his shoulder.

My brow furrowed — this sounded like a job. Usually, the Volturi insisted on eight weeks of downtime between jobs, during which we were supposed to attend training at least once a week at a Volturi base and separate ourselves from the last job. They had never strayed from this pattern before.

Emmett shot me a confused, curious look but I just shrugged, following Caius out into a plain white hallway. The London base was identical to every other base that the Volturi had. It was five stories high with extensive grounds, surrounded by tall, high-security walls. Aro, Caius and Marcus each had their own suite on the top floor in every base and the entire ground floor was dedicated to the training center, as well as the grounds. The rest of the building was littered with briefing rooms, an emergency hospital, interrogation rooms, holding cells, a cafeteria and the offices of the base Leaders.

Both Caius and Aro were currently in London, though it was rare for two of the three highest ranking Volturi to be in the same place at once. They were as high profile as some of their clients.

Caius led Emmett and I to the main briefing room on the third floor, solidifying my suspicions of this being about a job. He opened the thick, soundproof door, gesturing for us to walk in ahead of him and I stepped inside obediently, my frown deepening.

There was only one man in the room and he was not somebody I recognized. I immediately dismissed the idea that he was a new employee of Aro's since he didn't wear the required uniform that everyone but the "bodyguards" themselves were forced to wear. He looked haggard and worn, his aged face wasted, but there was a hard, vicious look about him that suggested he didn't spend his days behind a desk. His graying, curly brown hair was plastered to his face and his dark brown eyes flicked over myself and Emmett appraisingly as we stepped into the room, closing the door behind us. Caius did not join us.

"They tell me you boys are the best," the man stated. He grabbed one of the only pieces of furniture in the white room, a stool, and sat down at the large table in the middle of the room. Emmett and I remained standing, even when he gestured subtly toward the stools opposite him.

"That's right," Emmett answered. He stared at the man curiously, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. When we were briefed on a job, we would be handed a manila folder by an employee of the base and we would be told to memorize the details before the folder was destroyed. Any information we would need was immediately programmed into our cell phones through an encrypted e-mail and we were never allowed to disclose any details to anybody but those we were working with on the job.

This was… different.

"I'll be straight with you, then." The man leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "I called in a favor and I specifically requested _you_ —" He looked at me. "— But they told me that you prefer to work with Mr. McCarty."

"A favor?" Emmett asked doubtfully, glancing at me.

The man chuckled, his flashing in amusement. "It might have been… blackmail."

"I'm surprised you're still alive, then," I said dryly. "The Boss doesn't take blackmail well."

"I'm too well connected to just disappear, Mr. Cullen," the man responded. "Unfortunately, that's why I'm here. It is imperative that I remain in Europe and invisible at the moment but I have a job that needs doing in the US."

"So… this _is_ a job, then?" Emmett asked.

"Not necessarily," the man replied. "Unlike the jobs that your boss hands out, you can refuse to do this. You were my first choice, but Aro has assured me that he can find someone else. This would be a lot… _easier_… if it were you two who took on the job." He was looking at me again, though more pointedly this time.

"Why easier?" I demanded.

The man shook his head. "You know protocol, Mr. Cullen. If you do not accept this job, you are not privy to the details."

"But this isn't a real job," Emmett pointed out.

The man's face hardened, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Oh, I assure you, Mr. McCarty. It's very fucking real."

I stared at him, measuring the pros and cons of accepting. The fact that he had resorted to blackmail to even get this job on Aro's priority list was a bad sign but on the other hand, it had only been three weeks since my last job and if I wanted another, I would have to wait five weeks. Already, downtime was driving me mad. I hated being inactive — I preferred acting under pressure, constantly being on alert. The adrenaline rush was addictive.

"Fine," I said decisively. "I'm in."

Emmett hesitated a few seconds, before shrugging. "What the hell. I'm in."

The man nodded, pulling out a thin manila folder from inside his coat. He slapped it down on the table in front of us and Emmett and I moved to sit down on the stools opposite.

When I reached for the folder, the man grabbed my hand. Instinctively, I attempted the maneuver that would dislodge his grip, but the warning look he shot me dispelled the automatic reaction. For the moment, this guy was _not_ the enemy.

"First, you must understand something," the man said. "The name I go by is an alias. I have endured heavy reconstructive surgery on my face, contact lenses, hair dye, dental modifications — but the face you see now is the closest to who I was before all this fucking shit hit the fan. In _your_ world, my name is Liam O'Shea. You can even research the identity if you like — you will find that I grew up in Kerry, I'm an aging banker and my parents died a few years back."

"Your accent is a little bit off," Emmett pointed out. "You sound American, not Irish."

Liam O'Shea rolled his eyes impatiently, his voice slipping into an authentic Irish accent without fault. "Irish enough for you, McCarty?"

Emmett inclined his head.

"Good," Liam said, slipping back into the American accent he had been using before. "Now, I don't need word of my true identify getting back to your boss, so discretion will be helpful, if you please."

Emmett snorted. "You expect us to lie to The Boss? What the fuck makes you think we'll do that?"

"_You_ might not," Liam agreed. He pointed at me. "But _he_ will."

"And why's that?" I asked dryly.

"Because I believe you know the subject," Liam said. "My daughter."

Emmett glanced at me, a grin tilting his mouth. I could see his brain racing, creating a scenario that probably didn't exist. I could imagine it now: one of my many conquests was probably pregnant or some shit and her dad wanted his precious daughter well looked after. I was even prepared to protest, because there was no way in fucking hell that kid was mine. I was overly careful about that kind of shit.

"I bet he does," Emmett said crudely, confirming my suspicions of whatever shit was going on in his head.

Liam's eyes were hard when he turned to Emmett. "I suggest," he started, his voice warningly low, "that you refrain from speaking in that tone when it comes to my daughter."

Emmett had the decency to look chagrined.

Liam opened the manila folder, pulling out a white A4 sheet. "I received this six weeks ago, via an acquaintance. I can't be traced back to Liam O'Shea but the cop that received this message was an old friend who got in touch with _another _friend, et cetera. Suffice to say, this message is a lot older than six weeks." He flipped the A4 sheet over, revealing the black writing.

**"I KNOW WHO YOU ARE.  
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.  
IF IT'S NOT YOUR BLOOD I SPILL, IT WILL BE IN KIND."**

"This could be someone fumbling around in the dark," Emmett pointed out. "They might know nothing."

"I have considered that possibility," Liam agreed, "but shortly after this arrived, I got the second part of the threat." He pulled out more sheets from the folder. The glossy paper caught my attention and I realized that they were like surveillance photographs, each one with the same subject.

A sudden cold, icy shiver ran down my spine, recognition hitting me hard, like a slap to the face.

"This is your daughter?" Emmett asked, pulling the photographs toward him. An old, instinctive reaction flared to life in me and the strongest urge to snatch the photographs from his grip, to keep his eyes from seeing _her_, hit me like a wrecking ball.

"Charlie Swan," I growled, my jaw tightening as I watched the man sitting across from me with renewed interest.

Liam — _Charlie _— inclined his head, his mouth twisting into a hard smile. "The one and only."

"Ed, you know this chick?" Emmett asked lightly, his eyes flicking over the photos. I gave in to the urge to snatch them from him, my own eyes scanning the pictures with possessive interest.

"Yes, I do," I said, my tone similar to Charlie's. "So, they're targeting her now?"

"Yes," Charlie said. "They're trying to pull me out of hiding but I can't enter the US again. Not yet. I located you instead — I heard about the career path you'd chosen for yourself and realized that this would be the easiest and most effective way to protect her."

"You've done some recon work on this yourself, have you?" I demanded.

"Yes. These pictures are at least a year old. All the details of her current situation are waiting to be e-mailed to you as soon as you board the plane to Seattle. Aro has arranged the flight for tonight."

"Fine." I stood, shoving the photographs back into the manila folder. "I have some packing to do."

Emmett stood also, his expression wary. "This is serious shit, isn't it? More dangerous than crazy, violent stalkers after Russian pop-princesses?"

"Yeah," I said seriously. "You chickening out?"

Emmett grinned. "Hell, no."

"Good," I said abruptly. "Because if you fuck up on this job, I'll fucking kill you with my bare hands."

Emmett looked perturbed — I never turned on him. It was a silent rule that we both abided by; it was what had made us trust each other in the first place.

I turned to leave, but Charlie grabbed my wrist once more, his grip uncompromising. I could have escaped his hold but I understood the warning behind it, even before he words came out of his mouth.

"If they kill her, you won't live much longer yourself," Charlie said, his voice dangerously low. The threat was scarier than any I had ever issued myself and Emmett visibly paled.

"Mr. Swan, you know that what happens on the job —" he started, but Charlie interrupted him.

"I don't fucking care about your rules, your protocols or your fucking lives. If Isabella dies under your watch, then I _will_ kill you both. Aro said you were the best." He took a deep breath. "That is the _only_ reason that I'm trusting you with her right now."

Emmett didn't hear the double meaning behind his words, but I did. Loud and fucking clear. I don't know how he knew, but he _knew_.

Everything.

Every fucking thing that had happened since the day I'd arrived in Port Angeles at fifteen, eleven years ago.

"Can you handle that boys?" Charlie demanded.

I ripped my wrist from his grip, my jaw tightening. "We can handle it."

_I hoped._

**A/N:  
What do you reckon, should I keep going or what?? Review and let me know!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:  
Thank you thank you thank you for reviewing and supporting this story so early on!  
This chapter is super early (coz my beta Fragile Human is the bomb!) and I'm a really, _really_ impatient person so without an further adieu, I give you chapter 2 of Coming Undone. :D**

**Oh, yeah, and fanfiction doesn't show e-mail addresses so Edward's and Alice's look kinda weird the way I've written them. But yeah, just in case you thought it was an error or something... Anyway :D**

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~*~Edward~*~

"Come on, pick up," I muttered impatiently, my eyes sweeping surreptitiously around the crowded airport. Logically, I knew that the likelihood of there being any danger here was slim to none, but years of training were difficult to ignore.

As I waited for the line to pick up on my cell phone, a group of teenage girls walked past, staring curiously at me, their eyes flicking to Emmett, who was chatting up a blond flight attendant.

"No way!" One of them exclaimed.

I groaned internally, resisting the urge to bang my head off the white pillar I was leaning against.

"Isn't that —"

"It's TANYA DENALI'S _BODYGUARDS_!"

"Do you think SHE'S here somewhere?!"

Emmett's head whipped around, his expression mimicking mine.

"Fucking hell," I swore, pocketing my cell as I started walking swiftly toward the staff exit. One of Aro's men was already posted at the exit and he swiped an employee's card to open the door for Emmett and I. He smiled at me sympathetically, like he'd seen it all, and I wondered if I'd be stuck with his job in a few years if this kept up.

Aro didn't like his bodyguards to be easily recognizable. Tanya Denali wasn't as well known in the states so I would be relatively safe there, but what about when _this_ job was finished?

"Fantastic," I muttered.

"You're going to have to dye your hair, dude," Emmett observed. "It's like a beacon or something. Far too easy to recognize."

"I'm not dying my fucking hair," I scowled.

"Suit yourself." Emmett shrugged. "It was just a suggestion."

I didn't bother telling him where he could shove his suggestions. I had been in a bad mood ever since we'd left the hotel this morning. The files hadn't arrived in my inbox yet and I was growing restless. I hadn't been able to contact my father, probably because he was on call at the hospital, and I had misplaced Esme's cell phone number again.

I clicked the redial button on my phone, silently praying that _this_ time he would pick up. After a few seconds, there was an audible click and I breathed a loud sigh of relief.

"Hello? Who is this?" My father's voice filtered through the speaker, tired but pleasant.

"Hey, Dad. It's me," I said gruffly.

"Edward! Is something wrong?" Carlisle's voice was laced with worry and I immediately felt a surge of guilt. I couldn't remember the last time that I had rang him just to talk. I had been distancing myself from my family ever since I'd been hired by the Volturi, knowing that if anyone ever did connect me to the company, my family might be in danger.

"Uh, no," I said quietly. "Actually, it looks like I'll be able to make it to your wedding after all."

"Really?!" Carlisle exclaimed. "Oh, Edward, you have no idea how much this means to me — to _both_ of us! Esme has been so broken up over the fact that you wouldn't be able to walk her down the aisle."

The guilt pressed down on my chest, suffocatingly tight. When Esme had first come into our lives, I had worried that she was trying to replace my mother, even while Carlisle had been hell bent on tracking down her killer. The sadistic bastard who had raped and strangled her had been locked up tight in a high-security prison after Carlisle employed the help of the Volturi and I had gone to work for them because they were fast, efficient and they brought justice far more swiftly and exactly than the current legal system.

But instead of replacing my mother, Esme had become more of an aunt or an older sister, someone that loved me unconditionally but didn't try to parent me or erase my mother's memory.

I didn't want Esme to think that my refusal to attend their wedding had anything to do with my acceptance of her into our family, but telling her the truth was out of the question.

And now the reason that I had chosen to escape my life in Washington was the reason that I was returning.

"I'll be home soon. My flight leaves in about two hours," I said.

"Great! I'll ring ahead and get Esme to make up your old bedroom. Her sister's kids were going to stay in there, but I'm sure we can find somewhere else —"

"No, don't," I interjected. "I need… I need to talk to you about something. I can't stay in the house and I need your help."

"Edward, you're not in any trouble are you?" I could almost see his brow narrowing in disapproval on the other end of the call. "I don't know what that job of yours entails but I can guess…"

"No!" I assured him. "I'm not in any trouble, I promise. But I _will_ be working while I'm there."

There was a pause and I knew that Carlisle was disappointed that I wasn't coming home just for him. He had been trying to get me to return for just under six years but doing that would have meant reversing… I couldn't do that. I couldn't put myself in that position, not after how fucking hard it had been to get out of there in the first place.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

Carlisle sighed. "Don't be, son. I'm just glad you're coming home."

I hung up the phone, raking my hands through my hair in frustration, while Emmett watched me warily, probably anticipating another explosion of my temper. I really needed to reign in that shit if I was going to handle going back home. Years of training had honed in my impulses but if anybody was going to be able to reverse all that shit, it was _her_.

"So are you going to tell me _now_ how you know her?" Emmett asked cautiously. I might not have answered him if his tone had been teasing or suggestive but I knew that he was just trying to get his head into the right frame of mind to protect her. If he knew what our… _relationship_… had been, then he'd have a better idea of my reactions and how much this job could be compromised if I flew off the handle.

"She's…" What _was_ she to me? I searched for an appropriate word, but none came to mind. "She's my stepmother-to-be's niece." The explanation was grossly inadequate but it was the only description that was completely truthful. "I haven't seen her in six years."

"How do you think O'Shea knew about you?" Emmett asked curiously.

I snorted. "That's easy. He's a corrupt cop and on every wanted list in America. He skipped town before my father and I moved to Washington after he reportedly got involved with international drug trade and murdered his partner over it. If he can escape the FBI, I think he can find _me_."

Emmett whistled under his breath. "Jesus. There could be a million suspects in this case —"

"I sincerely doubt that," I said. "He might have been corrupt, but he's smart. Do you think Liam O'Shea is his only alias? There is a _reason_ that he hasn't been caught yet. He's untraceable. People even think he's several men, not just the one. Back home, he's just the lazy, generic cop who walked out on his family in search of a better life."

The words sounded bitter on my tongue, even though there was no truth in them, because I could still see the tears slipping silently down her pale cheeks as she spoke those exact words. _"He's just a lazy, generic cop who walked out on his family in search of a better life."_

Emmett opened his mouth to question me further but we were both interrupted when our cells vibrated suddenly, announcing an incoming document.

I clicked the accept button.

_Downloading files. Please wait…_

"I need a new cell phone," I muttered under my breath, impatience surging through me. The percentage complete seemed to crawl forward.

When our flight was beginning to board, the flight attendant that Emmett had been chatting up came to get us and we were escorted through the airport by security, which was ironic because we were probably more efficient than ten of the men posted.

Emmett and I were seated across the aisle from one another. No one bothered us when the seatbelt sign was turned off, which I was grateful for, and the elderly woman I was seated next to fell asleep almost as soon as the plane took off.

Emmett amused himself with the selection of action movies on the mini screen in front of him while I accessed my inbox, scrolling through the other, non-work related e-mails. There were only a couple, one advertising anti-virus software and one from my stepsister-to-be.

**From: alicebrandonatfairygodmothersdotcom****  
To: ecullenatenvolturidotcom**

_Hey Edward, Esme just told me the news! I can't wait to see you. We can go shopping for your suit next week — I've already picked it out! I had a hunch you'd be coming home… Catch-up later, Ali. xx_

A brief smile flitted across my face. It didn't matter that Alice and I weren't related; she had been my sister for as long as Carlisle and Esme had been dating. The blood part meant nothing to either of us. We were family.

Just as I clicked reply, the screen on my cell phone cleared and the _Please Wait… _bubble faded. Another second later, her face appeared on the small screen.

**SUBJECT: ISABELLA MARIE SWAN**

My muscles tensed instinctively and I had to work to settle the tight, adrenaline-fueled reaction in my stomach. Out of habit, my eyes swept over the interior of the plane but of course there was no danger. The reaction to seeing her picture was so similar to the reaction I had when faced with a dangerous situation that I almost laughed.

_Almost_.

The reality of feeling that way wasn't so funny. It was disturbing.

I scanned the document, relearning little facts about her that I had never really forgotten and memorizing the tiny changes that had been made to her life.

She had moved back to her childhood home in Forks, Washington, the house that had been left to her after her mother moved to Phoenix with her new husband. According to the file, she was living alone and working full-time at Newtons' Olympic Outfitters on the outskirts of town.

I flew over the few details that Charlie Swan had provided from his own observations, before I scrolled back up to the top of the document, where her photo dominated the screen.

The photo had to have been recent. Her hair was the longest that it had ever been, the chocolate brown strands curling gently around her heart-shaped face. Her lips were parted, on the verge of a secretive half-smile but her wide, dark brown eyes were watchful.

Six years.

Six years of secrecy, deception and denial.

Somehow, I knew that returning home to do this job would be the hardest thing that I would ever have to do, but I'd be lying if there wasn't a tiny part of me that anticipated a reunion.

But it was a _very_ tiny part of me.

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~*~Bella~*~

The prospect of an empty house had never been more inviting than it was in that moment. I mean, I've had my fair share of bad dates but this one…

I was going to _kill_ Alice.

For a person who called herself a professional matchmaker, she sure did suck at matchmaking. Granted, I refused to actually _pay_ her for her services and have my profile logged into the database of _Twilight_, but I had trusted that she knew what she was doing.

Obviously not.

When I reached the porch at the end of my driveway, I turned to face Eric Yorkie, smiling half-heartedly. The boy was sweet, he really was, but he hadn't a clue. And he _had_ tried… It wasn't his fault that the date had been doomed from the beginning.

"I had a lovely time," I lied. I really sucked at lying, but since I'd been lying my ass off all through dinner, Eric didn't seem to notice how my voice caught or the telltale, traitorous blush snuck up my cheeks.

"Me too," Eric smiled back. And because I was such pushover, I actually let him try and salvage the evening. When he stepped in closer, I didn't pull back. I knew, somewhere deep down inside me, that Eric Yorkie was never going to do it for me. He was cute in a weird, I-need-good-lighting way, but his fair hair was reflecting strangely under the porch light and I could almost see the gel, like beads of sweat, collecting on the tips of the strands. It was beyond disturbing that my eyes refused to lock onto anything else.

Still, I didn't move when he dipped his head and pressed his cool, moist lips against mine. For a second, I actually felt a surge of relief because this wasn't half bad until he brought out the big guns.

His _tongue_.

And holymotherofGod did he _not_ know how to use that thing.

In the space of two seconds, I went from being desperately horny to having my thighs glued shut. I almost groaned in frustration into Eric's mouth because seriously, how hard is it to get laid in this God forsaken town?

I pulled away, gasping for air after having my mouth violated, while Eric smirked down at me, looking very pleased with himself. And then I had to wonder what Alice had said to him because his eyes slid past me, to the front door, and he waited expectantly.

_Hell, no_.

I mean, it's one thing expecting sex after a mediocre date and a mediocre kiss. But this was just insulting. I thought back to the beginning of the night, when he had first arrived on my doorstep. The first signs that tonight was going to suck weren't exactly his fault. How was he supposed to know that I was allergic to roses — and that I'd have a runny nose for the next two hours? I had decided to blame Alice for that little incident, because she really should have told him.

The car ride to Port Angeles had been… awkward. He listened to some generic dance music station while I sat unnaturally still, lest I accidentally ruin my outfit on the mayo stains that coated the _McDonald's_ wrappers on the floor of the car.

At least he didn't take me _there_ for dinner. Dinner itself had been okay, save for the fact that Eric tended to talk a lot when he was nervous and he ordered my food for me without consulting me first.

If I wasn't such a trusting person, I'd guess that Alice did this to me on purpose. After all the time that she and Rosalie spent discussing my nonexistent sex life, you'd think that they'd help me along a little bit.

But _no_.

As if hearing my silent plea for help, a loud, harsh bark ripped through the silence, startling both Eric and I.

My head whipped toward the door. "Shit. Jake."

Eric's brow knitted in a frown, his mouth opening and closing several times before he thought of something to say. "Who's _Jake_?"

What tumbled out of my mouth next made me extremely proud of myself.

"Oh, Jake's my ex-husband," I said nonchalantly.

Eric visibly paled. "And he's… _here_?"

I shot him a pained look. "I'm sorry, Eric. He's been crashing here ever since he got out of jail."

"J-jail?"

"Uh huh. Our split was hard on him." I really couldn't believe the bullshit that was just rolling off my tongue. "When I started dating again, he got really possessive and jealous and tried to kill my date."

An icy feeling settled on my shoulders. The fun had been leeched out of the stupid game and the hollowness of my lies began to fade. For the first time that night, there was life in my words.

"Kill your date?" Eric was already sidling his way toward the steps leading onto the porch. "Listen, I had fun tonight. I'll, uh, call, umph! —" He stumbled down the steps, almost tripping. "I'll call you."

I chuckled under my breath as he raced toward his car, glancing surreptitiously over his shoulder like he expected to see a rifle aimed at his head, but my laugh was hollow.

I fished out my keys from my pocket, fitting them into the lock. The barking abruptly cut off when the lock turned and I let myself into the house, flipping the light switch as I went.

Before I could even get the door shut, I was shoved back against it, the air rushing from my lungs.

"JAKE!" I screamed.

Dark, almost black eyes stared into mine for an infinitesimal moment before the large, brown and white St. Bernard sank to the ground obediently, his tail flying happily.

I started laughing, my heart hammering in my ears, and Jake let out a low bark, his nose nudging my hand affectionately.

"You're a lifesaver, you know that?" I cooed, crouching down on the ground as I shoved my fingers through his fur, rubbing the spot behind his ears. Jake's eyes fluttered shut and he hummed in contentment. "But you gotta stop knocking me over, okay?"

Sighing, I climbed back onto my feet. The house, like always, felt horribly empty. I flipped on lights and turned on the television in the kitchen, just for some noise. Jake curled up under the table, his black eyes following my every movement avid scrutiny as I took out a tin of dog food from the cupboard.

"Here, Jakey." I emptied the contents of the tin into Jake's bowl and shoved it under the table, where Jake was eagerly waiting.

While Jake ate, I grabbed the cordless phone from phone dock and dialed Alice's number. She answered on the second ring, her musical, lilting voice even more upbeat than usual.

"Helloooo?"

"Alice, I am going to _kill_ you," I said menacingly.

"Well, hey to you, too, Bella!" Alice answered cheerfully. "How did your date go?"

Sometimes I wondered why I put up with her. Alice Brandon was my cousin. Her mother, Esme, was my Aunt, but sometimes she was more of a surrogate mother to me. After my dad had skipped down, abandoning my mom and I, Esme had taken both of us in until Renée, my mother, had flown to Phoenix to chase her dreams. She had been too young when she married and although I knew she didn't resent having me, she had been glad that Esme had taken me in. Alice and I had grown up like sisters for most of our lives.

"Alice, it was awful!" I complained. "He showed up with roses, so naturally my nose was running the entire date…" I proceeded to tell her every excruciating detail of my date, annoyed that she seemed to find it funny, rather than shocking.

"Oh, Christ!" Alice laughed and I could imagine her clutching her stomach as she doubled over. "You told him Jake was your _ex-husband_?"

"Well, what did you expect me to do? I just wanted him to go away," I whined.

"Well _that_ certainly worked," Alice snorted.

"You _knew_ this was going to happen," I accused.

"Yeah." Alice didn't even bother denying it. "But if you'd just let us set up a profile for you…"

"No!" I insisted. "Just, _no_, Alice."

Unlike me, Alice had gone to university after school. I couldn't afford tuition money and I couldn't stomach borrowing from Esme, so I had gotten a job at Newtons' Olympic Outfitters. I couldn't ever shake the feeling that my life wasn't going anywhere, that I was stuck at a dead end, but I didn't regret making the decision not to take Esme's money.

Alice had gone to business school, where she had met Rosalie Hale, and the pair of them had opened up a hugely successful matchmaking service called _Twilight_ in Seattle. They made it their business to teach people how to date, how to act, how to talk to people when they're nervous, you name it. Then they ran compatibility tests between clients to help them find the perfect date.

While I knew that the compatibility tests worked, I wasn't ready to admit that I needed help getting a date just yet.

"Suit yourself, Bella," Alice sighed. She was trying to guilt trip me into agreeing by using her dejected voice, but it wasn't quite as effective as usual, probably because I could hear the hint of excitement in her tone.

I frowned. "Alice, have you met guy?"

"No," Alice said quickly. "Actually, Bella, I just got off the phone with Esme. You'll never guess what."

I rolled my eyes. "What?"

"Edward's coming home!" Alice squealed.

The cordless phone slipped out of my hand, clattering to the floor as I froze in complete shock.

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**A/N:  
Please review!! **

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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:  
Thankyouthankyouthankyou for supporting this story so early on!! And thank you, of course, to my kickass beta Fragile Human coz she rox ma socks :D *Adapts creepy voice* The plot, my dears, thickens...**

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**~*~Bella~*~**

"Jake!" I exclaimed loudly, trying frantically to calm my racing heart. Jake's ears perked up, his eyes widening comically in confusion.

I knelt down, picking up the phone.

"Sorry, Alice," I said, my voice breathless. "Jake jumped on me." The lie slipped from my mouth easily — _too_ easily for me.

_Edward's coming home._ The words reverberated around inside my head, provoking a whole slew of dormant, unwanted feelings that worked their way painfully out of the black hole I'd shoved them in.

"So… Edward's back?" I asked. I tried to inject my voice with an appropriate amount of interest but I still only managed to sound breathless. If Alice had been in the room with me at that moment, she would have read every single emotion on my face and guessed the truth almost immediately. It still amazed me that she hadn't picked up on it before; admittedly, after six years, my emotions had been well and truly buried… but even in the beginning, she'd never known. Edward had been a brilliant, unbelievably competent liar but I'd never been good at hiding what was going on in my head.

"Not just yet," Alice explained, her excitement reaching astronomical proportions over the phone. "His flight hasn't arrived in Seattle airport yet, but he called Carlisle a few hours ago to tell him that he was going to be here for the wedding. Esme couldn't believe it — you know how torn up she was about him not being able to walk her down the aisle."

Guilt surged through me, as it always did when Esme brought up the subject of Edward not being able to walk her down the aisle. Some part of me knew that it wasn't really my fault — that Edward could have come back at any time despite everything — but the irrational part of my brain placed a lot of the blame squarely on my shoulders.

I loved Esme like a second mother. She'd taken me in when she didn't have to, she gave me a home that I felt secure in and she did her best to shape me into the person I was. The thought of ruining her special day, when she married the love of her life, made me feel exceptionally guilty.

"She must be so excited," I said dumbly.

"She's ecstatic!" Alice exclaimed. "Anyway, I was just ringing to tell you that we're all having dinner tomorrow tonight; sort of a homecoming for Edward. You can make it, right?"

I was sorely tempted to say no. My whole being rebelled against going to Carlisle and Esme's home to sit at the same table as him and make small talk like nothing was wrong. Like everything that I had tried to build over the last six years wasn't about to unravel.

But then I thought of how disappointed Esme would be and how suspicious Alice was bound to get when I refused. I didn't know which option was worse.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I can make it."

"Cool," Alice said. "I'm sorry about your date, Bel. I'll make it up to you, okay?"

"You better." I tried to sound angry, but my heart wasn't in it.

"I will," Alice promised. "Anyway, I'll talk to you later. I have to close up for the night."

"See you." I hung up the phone, setting it down in its cradle. Jake whined, flattening his ears as he stared at me curiously, like he knew something was wrong. He was so clever.

I smiled weakly at him, leaning down to scratch his head. He arched his face into the palm of my hand, a low whine escaping his throat, and I sank my fingers into the comfort of his fur. "What am I going to do?" I whispered. It had been six years — surely I wasn't so weak, so like the young teenager that I'd once been, that I couldn't face Edward? Where was the backbone that I'd grown? Why did I have to be reduced to a mess at the mere mention of his homecoming?

I suddenly felt extremely tired. I stood up, ignoring Jake's little growl of protest, and walked upstairs. The house felt extremely empty and very, very cold as I headed up the stairs. No matter how long I lived here, the feeling of loneliness never really faded. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I could hear the echoing cries of laughter and feel the lingering familiarity hovering in the air, memories from my childhood. The house seemed haunted and my presence only seemed to make it worse.

When I'd first imagined moving back to Forks, I had envisioned a clean break, a chance to start over on my own without Esme's help. But really, it was like taking a step backwards into the past, only there was no one waiting for me. This house no longer felt like mine. It was just a time warp.

Alice had given me Jake as a house warming gift and he had helped to alleviate the loneliness and fear somewhat. I felt safe returning home to an empty house with him there. He was the only thing that kept me from moving back to Port Angeles, to Esme. I wanted to be independent but I doubted that I could endure living in this time warp on my own.

Jake padded up the stairs after me, brushing past me and nosing the door of my bedroom open. I knew that he would be curled up on the rug at the end of my bed when I walked in, ready to guard me while I slept. His undying devotion to me was like a much needed balm after the shock of hearing that Edward was coming back. It seemed stupid, but Jake was my rock.

I followed him inside the room, flicking on the light switch. I'd removed all my childhood stuff from my old bedroom and put them in the attic, making the room into a guest room for Alice or Rosalie when they decided to stay over. All my new furniture had been brought into the master bedroom, my parents' old room. I had kept their ornamental dressing table and mirror, but everything else was mine. It was the most comfortable room in the house, probably because their influence had been wiped out. I drew the lilac curtains and grabbed my nightgown from the end of my bed, ducking into the en suite.

I started the shower, stripping off my white cotton date dress and pantyhose while I waited for the shower to heat up. I had yet to modernize the bathroom and it took ages for the pump to heat up the water. I doused a washcloth in lukewarm water and began to methodically clean off my make-up, stripping away the remnants of my night out.

As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I tried not to notice the haunting, black hole that lurked in my wide brown eyes. In the orange light, the paleness of my skin contrasted starkly with the rich red color of the bathroom wall. There were no decorative freckles anywhere on my body and there never would be, no matter how long I spent out in the sun. I just had one of those skin types that refused to retain any color. There were light purple, half-moon grooves under my eyes, emphasizing the tiredness in my expression, but otherwise my face was pure white.

_I look like one of the ghosts that are haunting my house, _I realized dolefully. It wasn't any wonder that I had to resort to Alice and Rosalie's help when I needed a date. Who wanted to date a girl who looked like she was in mourning? This house was getting to me.

I stepped under the spray of hot water, my eyes fluttering shut was the water seeped into my pores and came close to warming the inside of my skin, the part of me that was growing colder every day I spent in this house.

Was it normal for a house to affect someone in this way?

_It's the memories, _I thought. _I'm the one who's haunted, not the house_.

Only all of my ghosts were still very, _very_ much alive.

I washed off the grime of my date and the shock of Alice's call, before stepping out of the shower and toweling off quickly. I stepped back into my bedroom, the floorboards creaking under my feet as I padded over to my bed and pulled back to covers. Jake was already snoring on the floor but I knew that he slept with one eye open, always protecting me. He was a strange dog but I didn't know what I'd do without him.

I climbed into the bed, drawing the covers around me like a cocoon.

_Edward's coming home._ Fear, pure and strong, surged through my weary veins and I sank deeper into my blankets. I had never had any reason to fear Edward physically. There was no doubt in my mind that the fear that swiftly overtook my body had nothing to do with fearing _Edward_, per se.

It left me feeling confused and vulnerable but more than that — for the first time in so long, the feeling of being a ghost began to lose some of its potency. Was there a chance that the fear I felt was making me feel — more _alive_? I hadn't felt alive, _really_ alive, in so long.

When I finally succumbed to tiredness, my eyes fluttering shut, the fear never really faded and for the first time in a long time, the gaping black hole began to invade my subconscious… and I allowed myself to remember.

**

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**

**~*~Edward~*~**

When our flight landed, we were taken to the nearest Seattle base in a nondescript black jeep by a man in standard Volturi uniform. His nametag read "Max". Emmett was excited about being back in the states and insisted on making Max stop at a Starbucks, just to experience the novelty of having a Starbucks around every corner. He had never stopped complaining about how few coffee choices they gave you on café menus in London while we were there.

We arrived at the base around two a.m. but there was plenty of activity still going on. Max slowed the car outside the gates and two security officers insisted that we step out of the car and have our fingerprints scanned for proof of identity. It was all protocol, even if it was a tad excessive. When the three of us were cleared, Max drove into the compound and stopped outside the main doors.

I grabbed my overnight bag and climbed back out of the car, stretching my arms carefully. I'd been sitting down for too long and my muscles had cramped. The base, like them all, was crawling with security. I identified at least six cameras as I walked up the stone steps but I was sure that there were many more. It was amazing that the Volturi operations were so covert with their high maintenance bases. They mostly tried to pass them off as U.S. Military compounds but not even _they_ had as much security as these buildings.

"Any idea who our Handler is going to be?" I asked Emmett as we pushed open the main doors. At least two cameras scanned our profiles, humming quietly as we moved, but both of us ignored the now familiar process.

"Not a clue. I've never been to this particular base," Emmett responded. He rubbed his face tiredly, his mouth opening into a wide yawn, but his eyes were constantly alert. I'd seen him go four days without any sleep and still have deadly acute reflexes.

"Hello, welcome to B00176-Seattle. Can I see your I.D.s?" The receptionist behind the plain, black desk in the center of the foyer smiled pleasantly at Emmett and I, though her eyes raked over us with a little more than just curiosity. She was probably used to men with muscular bodies and dangerous vibes coming in and out of here on an hourly basis, but I had to admit that Emmett and I were of a different caliber of muscle and appeal.

I passed the tall, attractive blond my I.D., smiling tiredly at her. Emmett pulled out his, his smile much more enthusiastic than mine. She didn't actually require proof of our identification — the numerous cameras and the finger scan had already performed that job — but she needed our I.D.s to log us into the Seattle base. This would be our headquarters for the duration of our job and we would be required to return at least once a week for an update with our "Handler", unless circumstances didn't permit a meeting.

Handlers were Bodyguards — or "Guardians" — who preferred to work behind a desk than be in the line of fire. Usually, there were Guardians who volunteered to spend a few years as a Handler, particularly Guardians who were older and were growing weary of the fieldwork, but sometimes Guardians were asked to spend a term of six months as a Handler when a base was short.

"Thanks, gentlemen," the receptionist — "Lindsay", it said on her nametag — said, passing our I.D.s back after she had logged our information into the system. "You're in for a treat. Leader Marcus flew in yesterday so he'll probably want to speak with you two personally." Lindsay beamed at us, obviously not realizing that meeting a "Leader" was getting old for us. We were on a first name basis with The Boss.

"We're looking forward to it," Emmett lied, winking at her. Lindsay blushed, but she managed to keep a professional, if overly friendly smile on her face.

"For now, you're required in room 71 to meet with your Handler. Would you like an escort or can you find it yourselves? It's on the second floor, east wing."

"We can find it, thanks," Emmett smiled. We both headed for the elevator, surprised when it opened before I could reach for the button. A tall man in blue khaki military gear stepped out, nodding briefly at us. The color of his uniform indicated that he was part of base security.

"This place is crawling," Emmett muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly. He wasn't the only who thought the security was excessive but complaining wouldn't do either of us any good. We stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the second floor. Thirty seconds later, the doors re-opened and we stepped out into a plain white hallway.

We found room 71 easily. It was a briefing room; sparsely furnished with a table and three chairs, no cameras.

Emmett and I sat facing the door. I stretched lazily, trying to work out the kinks in my neck. I'd kill for a full twelve hours sleep but I knew that as soon as I left here, I had to go and meet Carlisle at the hospital. He was on call tonight so I knew that he would be awake. It would be awhile yet before I could sleep.

Two minutes after our arrival, the door opened and a tall, muscular blond stepped inside. He was wearing the standard yellow and black Handler uniform with the Volturi crest embedded on the left breast pocket. He was strange looking, with lightly tanned skin, wiry blond hair and wide blue eyes that gave him a permanent guileless expression.

"Hello, Mr. McCarty, Mr. Cullen." He nodded at us both, grabbing the plastic chair on the opposite side of the desk. He sat down quickly, dropping a manila folder on the table in front of him. "I'm Jasper Whitlock, your assigned Handler."

"I've never heard of you," I said bluntly.

"I'm new," Jasper answered, with a dry smile. I looked him over, deciding he was in his late twenties, early thirties. There was no way that he would have been accepted into the Volturi program at his age when the Volturi made a point of recruiting teenagers fresh out of high school.

"_New_?" Emmett's voice mirrored my own disbelief.

"I transferred from the Military nine months ago when I got back from Iraq. I decided life as a soldier wasn't for me and that working for the Volturi was more up my alley," he explained vaguely. I wasn't an idiot; I knew that there was a _lot_ more to it than that, but Mr. Whitlock was not about to spill his life story to two strangers.

"Whatever." Emmett waved his hand dismissively. "Let's get this over with so I can crash somewhere."

Jasper opened the manila folder and placed two keys in front of us. "These are the keys to your lockers at the training facility. The base retains the right to search them at random and if we find anything suspicious, you know the drill." Jasper rolled his eyes, waving his hand. We got the same talk before every job but it was base protocol to repeat it each time. "Your weapons are stored there at present. If you need any additional firearms, just ask and we'll have them for you within the hour, provided your reason is valid."

Emmett and I nodded our heads, pocketing the keys.

"Okay. We need to meet every Wednesday at two p.m. in this room unless you have a valid reason why you can't attend," Jasper continued. "We have arranged for two vehicles to be brought around to the front for both of you." He took out another set of keys from the folder and passed them to us. "Also, motel keys —" Another set of keys were passed to us. "Obviously, you don't need to avail of them, but the Volturi are paying your expenses so don't hesitate to use them for the duration of this job."

Jasper nodded in satisfaction and with protocol finished, he sat back in his chair, relaxing slightly. "How was that? This is only the third time I've had to give that talk." He half-smiled.

"Not bad," Emmett said, returning his half-smile. I remained silent. I wanted to know how he'd gotten into the Volturi so quickly via the military but I knew that if I asked, Jasper wouldn't answer. I couldn't put my finger on why, but I wasn't ready to trust him yet. Not by a long shot.

"So," Jasper said. "I've been briefed on your job. The subject, Isabella Marie Swan, is a neighbor of mine."

_Bingo_.

My fists automatically clenched under the table but I worked to smooth out my hands, relaxing back into the chair. The emotion that I'd thought dead, that I'd _hoped_ was dead, returned with a vengeance. _Relax, you idiot. He's her _neighbor_. Not a fucking sadistic rapist._

"I have no idea why The Boss gave this job such high priority," Jasper continued, oblivious to my reaction. _So he didn't know about Liam O'Shea/Charlie Swan, then_. Both Emmett and I wisely chose to remain silent about our meeting with the man. "But I'm still prepared to treat it as such. I understand that a threat has been made against Ms. Swan's life — who the threat was made _to_, I'm unaware — so I'm ready to treat everyone as suspicious until proven otherwise. There's no such thing as too careful."

I silently thanked God that I had more information than _this_ idiot and that Emmett and I had seen the photographs, the death threats. I knew that whoever we were looking for bore a grudge against Charlie Swan or the Swan family. I could rule Esme, Carlisle and Alice out of the equation. I would explain as much to Emmett as soon as we were permitted to leave. Keeping this valuable information from our Handler was against Volturi rules and both of us could be suspended over it, but Charlie Swan had been adamant that his identity remain a secret. Emmett might not have been willing to lie to the boss but I was prepared, wholly and readily, to make the exception and lie through my teeth.

My career wasn't my main priority this time; protecting Bella was. It was the first time that I'd ever let a subject take precedence over my career with the Volturi but the decision made complete sense because she wasn't just a subject. She'd _never_ be just a subject.

"So," Jasper said. "Anything you gentlemen want to tell me before we leave?"

He stared pointedly at me. I knew that there was no way in hell he knew about our meeting with Charlie Swan, so there was only other thing he could be fishing for.

"I know the subject," I said evenly. My voice betrayed nothing.

"In what capacity?" Jasper asked pleasantly, but his eyes were like stone.

"Her aunt is my soon-to-be stepmother."

"That's it?" Jasper stared at me, long and hard.

"That's it," I lied, my lips tilting into a hard, stony grin. There were some things that you just couldn't tell a man you met ten minutes ago.

My answer had probably set the course of our "relationship" for the duration of this job. While I had instantly mistrusted Jasper, my answer had solidified his own distrust in me. This was not going to be easy.

"Fine. I'll see you back here on Wednesday. Lindsay will remind you on Wednesday morning." Jasper stood up, holding out his hand. Emmett shook it first, both of them smiling in a friendly way at each other. When Jasper released Emmett's hand and took mine, I knew that I didn't imagine how his fingers tightened infinitesimally, like a warning. I returned it, my mouth pursed in a hard line.

Without another word, I grabbed my bag and strode out the door, feeling a lot more alert than I had when I walked in. I was going to have to sleep with one eye open from now on.

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**A/N:  
Because I've got the next chapter written, I'm going to send every reviewer a little preview of next chapter if you take the time to click the review button!! I love hearing from you and your reviews really make my day!!**

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:  
Thank you all so much for reviewing!!! :D Once again, thanks to my brilliant and fantastic beta, Fragile Human. I've got this story pretty much planned out so it's full steam ahead from here! **

**~*~Edward~*~**

The receptionist at the front desk of Seattle Grace was extremely helpful. All I had to do was lean forward slightly and smile lazily at her as I explained that I was looking for Dr. Carlisle Cullen, and she was scrambling to do whatever she could to help me out.

She even offered to walk me upstairs but she was promptly reminded that she was working when an old couple shuffled up to the desk, demanding attention. She stared after me mournfully as I strode away but I was too tired to feel smug about it.

It had been almost an hour since I'd left the Volturi base. I'd been more than pleasantly surprised when I'd walked outside and Max had presented me with my new vehicle: a sleek, black Aston Martin Vanquish. _So_ much better than the Volvo I'd had in England. Emmett's face had lit up like a Christmas tree when Max had directed him toward a monstrous looking yellow and black jeep that looked like it could wade through a river and come out growling.

We'd split up then; Emmett went to check out the motel while I made my way into the city, to the hospital. Parking had been a bitch but I'd finally gotten inside the hospital.

I took the stairs up a few floors and walked into the gynecology ward, smiling briefly at the nurses working at the nurses' station. "I'm looking for Dr. Cullen?" I asked.

"Edward?" I turned, my smile widening as a tall, ageing blond man walked out of a private room, his blue eyes wide with incredulity. He seemed both older and younger than when I had last seen him. He had more wrinkles on his kind face, but they were the kind of crinkles you develop from having spent a lot of time smiling. He seemed happy.

"Hey, Dad." We embraced, clapping each other's shoulders in greeting. "It's good to see you. You're looking well."

"You look exhausted," Carlisle noted as he pulled away, his brow creased in concern. "I could give you my spare key if you want to crash at the house?"

I smiled, thinking that sounded heavenly. "That sounds great, Dad. But I think we should talk first."

"Of course." He beckoned to one of the nurses. "Michelle, I'll be in my office if I'm needed. I shouldn't be too long."

The nurse nodded, eyeing me speculatively. Carlisle took my arm and directed me down the ward, to his office. He closed the door behind us and gestured for me to sit down on the comfortable armchair in front of his desk. I sat down, relaxing into the seat. It was tempting to shut my eyes but I knew that if I started giving in, the tiredness would overwhelm me and I wouldn't be alert enough to drive home.

"You haven't got a Red Bull or something, do you?" I asked.

"Sure." Carlisle opened the mini fridge behind his desk, throwing a can in my direction. I caught it easily, cracking it open and draining half of the contents in one gulp.

"Thanks," I said.

"No problem." Carlisle's eyes crinkled as he smiled. He became serious after a second, sitting down in the chair opposite me. "Now, what's this about?"

"I'm on a job, so I can't actually tell you what I'm doing," I said carefully, aware that if I told Carlisle what was going on, I was killing my career. "But I need your help."

Carlisle's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You need _my_ help?"

I chuckled. "Not as a doctor or anything — and definitely not for something illegal."

"Okay." Carlisle smiled.

"I need…" I shifted awkwardly, looking anywhere but at him. "I need to stay in Bella's house."

"What?" Carlisle looked astonished, but the expression was suddenly replaced by worry. "Is Bella in trouble? Edward, you can't just spring this on me and then refuse to answer!"

"Dad." I leaned forward, placing my hand on top of his, trying to calm him. The amount of concern he had for Bella was something that I hadn't anticipated but then, he had been living with her for three years, before she went away to college. Carlisle's compassion made it easier for him to accept and care about people than it was for me. "I'm one of the best at what I do, okay? With me here, Bella will probably be safer than the Queen of England."

Carlisle relaxed slightly, nodding his head. He recognized the seriousness of the situation but he had complete faith in me. "Why do you need my help with staying with Bella?"

"Bella probably won't feel as hospitable as Alice or Esme," I said dryly. "Actually, I'm willing to bet she'll have at least four or five different accommodations lined up within the hour when you ask her to take me in. She's resourceful like that."

Carlisle chuckled. "What, have you two had a falling out? I didn't think it was possible to argue efficiently through e-mail."

"A falling out." It sounded weird, looking at our situation that way. "Something like that. But I really need you to help chip away at my options. I _need_ to be in that house with her."

Carlisle inclined his head. "Of course, Edward."

"Thank you." I stood up. "I have to go now, but we can catch up tomorrow. I'm dead on my feet."

"Here, I'll get you the spare key —" Carlisle reached behind him.

"No," I said hastily. "I probably won't make it to Port Angeles and I don't want to scare Esme. It's after three in the morning."

"Okay." Carlisle nodded his head slowly, concern creasing his features. "Are you sure that you have somewhere to stay? You're not sleeping in the back of your car?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm good. I could probably secure a house if I wanted to; my bosses are that efficient."

"Good." Carlisle stood, hugging me again. "It's good to have you home, son."

It was too early to say something like "It's good to be home" because I was pretty sure once tomorrow came, it would be anything but good, so I kept my mouth shut and hugged him back.

When he finally released me, I walked out of his office and down the ward. As I walked, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Emmett's number. Emmett answered on the second ring.

"Dude, I was fucking sleeping," Emmett whined.

"I've been to see my Dad," I said, ignoring his complaining. "I'm pretty sure I can get myself into B — Isabella's house, at least for a few nights."

"Oh, good." Emmett sounded like he wasn't even listening. "She'll love that. A hunky bodyguard at her beck and call."

"Yeah." I rolled my eyes. "Later." I hung up, hurrying down the rest of the stairs until I was back in the reception area. I waved goodbye to the receptionist and walked out the door, making my way over to where my car was parked. I sat inside, flipping on the air conditioning. The cold air would keep me away for awhile.

I did a quick scan of the car, something that I'd forgotten to do when I'd first gotten into it, and located all the weapons. There was a gun in a secret compartment at the back of the glove box, under the driver's seat. A pocket knife conveniently hidden in the sun visor. That would come in handy.

I started the engine, loving how it _purred_ to life. When this job was over, I was getting one of these babies for my own private use.

I drove out of the hospital parking lot and into ongoing traffic. I made it to the motel in fifteen minutes. Emmett's motel room was located next door to mine, the furthest away from the reception desk. I could practically hear his snoring as I unlocked the door to my one and let myself inside.

It was pretty basic, but it was refreshingly clean. The bed was a double with fresh sheets on it, the television worked and the shower had hot water. I was set for the night. I dropped my bag on the floor, peeling of my jacket and pulling my black wife-beater over my head. I kicked off my black cargo pants, unstrapped the Colt from around my left thigh. I was too tired to even attempt a shower so I just crawled onto the bed in my boxers, falling asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

I had a funny feeling that tomorrow was going to be even longer.

**~*~Bella~*~**

When my alarm went off the next morning, I was already awake. I slid out of bed, knocking off the alarm as I went. Jake stretched lazily, growling softly as he climbed to his feet and headed for the door.

I put on my uniform — black pants and green t-shirt with the shop logo on — and brushed out my hair. The ends had curled slightly in my sleep and when I tried to tie it up into a hasty knot, little tendrils escaped and fell haphazardly over my face. I didn't bother with make-up.

When I made it downstairs, Jake was nudging his bowl closer and closer to the cupboard I stored his dog food in. I laughed out loud, reaching down to scratch his head. "Are you hungry, boy?"

Jake's tail swished rapidly through the air, whacking the back of my legs, as he growled happily. I pulled open the cupboard and took out a can of dog food, shoveling the contents into his bowl. I was surprised that he let me drag the bowl back to his usual spot under the table before he attacked his breakfast vigorously.

I made myself some coffee and toast, lifting one of the many fashion catalogues that Alice had left on the countertop and dropping it down on the table. I flipped through it absentmindedly as I ate my breakfast, occasionally reaching down to push Jake's head off my lap.

I was just finished when the doorbell rang and I went out to greet Angela Weber, my friend and co-worker. Angela had lived in Forks all her life. She was the daughter of the local Lutheran church minister and had married her boyfriend, Ben Cheney, right out of high school seven years ago. They had two little boys that I occasionally babysat for.

"Hey," I said as I opened the door. Angela's outfit was identical to mine, but the color suited her darker coloring better than it suited me. "Let me just get my keys." Angela and I carpooled to work together; our contribution to the local "Stop Global Warming" effort.

I grabbed my house keys and my jacket from the end table just inside the door. Jake darted past me, sprinting out onto the front lawn. He barked at Angela's car, which was still running.

"Out back, Jakey," I yelled as I walked over to the side of the house. I'd had to have a wall constructed around the back of the house to keep Jake from wandering off and getting shot by local hunters or from being knocked down by cars. Jake wasn't particularly happy with the enclosure but the garden was pretty big. I didn't have to feel bad about leaving him cooped up in there all day. Plus, sometimes Jasper Whitlock came by to walk him for me.

When Jasper had first moved into the old Gordon house about a mile down the road, he hadn't really talked to anyone. He would show up at the diner in town sometimes for a meal and since I used to work there, we had got to talking and I counted him among my friends in this town now. He didn't get along with a lot of the residents — he'd come back from Iraq a little wary of people in general, but I was a firm believer that Esme's cookies could win over anyone.

I opened the high gate that separated the back garden from the front garden and Jake slipped reluctantly past me, into the enclosure.

I locked the gate after him and walked back down my drive to Angela's car.

"Mike's in a foul mood," Angela warned me as she started the engine. "He rang me this morning to ask if I wouldn't mind talking to Jessica. I think she's pregnant."

Mike Newton was my boss at Newtons' Olympic Outfitters. He was an okay boss when he wasn't flirting with his employees and he had gotten married last year to a girl from Port Angeles called Jessica Stanley. Jessica was a bit of a snob and she didn't like living in the backend of nowhere. Their relationship was nothing if not dysfunctional. Throwing a baby into that mix would be interesting.

"Does he not want kids?" I asked.

"Oh, no. Mike wants a whole brood," Angela explained. "It's Jessica who didn't want the kids. Her whining is driving him crazy."

"Lovely." This day was just going to get worse and worse.

Angela drove us a few miles down the highway, stopping outside a very pleasant, sunny looking building with a massive sign that said "NEWTONS' OLYMPIC OUTFITTERS. WE MEET ALL OF YOUR OUTDOOR NEEDS".

"Today will drag," Angela said mournfully. "Even if I'm getting off early to collect the kids from school."

On the contrary, I knew that today would fly because I was dreading dinner later. I was going to be on the end of my tether all day, I could feel it.

We both climbed out of the car and walked into the shop. I fixed my employee tag to my t-shirt, murmuring a quick hello to Mike who was walking around the shop, making sure that everything was in it's correct place.

He smiled at me, but there was no warmth in it and his eyes were fuming. I thought it wise just to avoid him all day.

The morning was pretty slow. Angela and I played cards until Jessica came out and caught us, and said something about telling Mike to cut our Christmas bonuses if all we did all day was play games. She looked like she'd been crying and her mascara was smudged but any sympathy I would have had for her disappeared as soon as she opened her mouth.

Angela left at two to go and collect her kids. Business picked up after that, because it was Friday and the usual crowd that visited Newtons' would be heading out hiking or fishing tomorrow morning for the weekend.

Billy Black stopped by to pick up fishing equipment and he stayed to chat for awhile. He was pretty lonely, living in La Push on his own. He had lost his wife and son in a boating accident a few years back, as well as movement in his legs. I felt bad that something so crappy could happen to such a lovely man, but that was life.

At five, Mike told me that I could go home. He was closing up shop early because he had to drive Jessica to Port Angeles to see a doctor. I guess he expected me to be grateful so I smiled and thanked him as I finished up sorting a box of alcoholic wipes.

I called Angela to come and pick me up and she arrived within ten minutes.

"That was nice of him," she noted when I explained why I was leaving early.

"Yeah," I said dumbly. Unfortunately, I now had two hours to stew over what was going to happen at dinner before I had to leave for Port Angeles.

Angela dropped me off at my house and I walked around the side to let Jake out. He bounded past me, barking loudly as Angela's car retreated down the driveway, before whirling around and clattering up the steps to the front door.

"Easy," I told him, grabbing his collar. "You're going to break something, careening around like that."

Jake yipped at me, his tail wagging furiously.

I unlocked the front door, stepping inside. Jake brushed past me, having slowed down considerably, and nosed his way into the kitchen. I switched on the television as I started on Jake's dinner, only half paying attention. The news was on and the newscaster was calling out the headlines.

"… _and finally, Princess of Pop, Tanya Denali has announced the final tour dates for the promotion of her new album, _"Stalker",_ inspired by her recent stalker-scare. She will be arriving in the U.S. sometime next month and the tickets go on sale in two days…"_

"Here, Jake." I placed Jake's bowl on the floor and he lunged for it. I cleaned the kitchen while he ate, just to occupy my brain, but I still found myself thinking about tonight. My stomach was in knots.

_It's been six years, you idiot, _I told myself. _He won't even remember_.

"He _will_," I growled out loud. Jake's ears perked up, his eyes watching me curiously.

At six, I contemplated ringing Alice and cancelling, but I knew that I couldn't. Alice would never let me stay at home without demanding an explanation and I didn't think that I could handle disappointing Esme. I was such a push over.

When I realized that I'd almost scrubbed the paint off the windowsill, I gave up with a huff of frustration and went upstairs to take a shower. The hot slew of water helped to calm me down somewhat. It felt like there was a whole flutter of butterflies attacking my stomach but I could almost pretend that I was in control of myself.

I put on the simple black dinner dress that Esme had picked out for me in Seattle a few weeks ago. Neither of us were big fans of shopping, like Alice was, but sometimes we went out together to shop at our own pace and sit down for lunch at a café, mostly just to catch up.

It was depressing that almost every time we did this, she always had some interesting news to divulge and I never had anything.

My life was going nowhere. I was working at a dead end job with no rewards that served to pay the bills. I was living in a house that may or may not be haunted and my best friend was of the canine persuasion.

I had never really looked at my life that way but it was becoming more and more apparent that I was stuck at a cul-de-sac with little hope for the future.

Great. Now I was nervous _and_ morose.

I threw on my favorite pair of suede boots, straightened my hair and applied a minimal bit of make-up, just to cover up the haunted look I was wearing these days. When I was ready, I was pleased that I looked like a reasonably happy human being and that all my inner turmoil was exactly that — inner. I would calm and collected, I would _not_ think of the past and I would be fine.

Who was I kidding?!

I grabbed my keys from the dresser, putting my phone and lip balm into the small clutch bag that Alice had bought me for Christmas. I wore my favorite grey cardigan. It didn't really match the dress and Alice would probably be pissed, but I needed _some_ comfort if I was going to get through tonight.

I went downstairs and made sure that Jake was okay in the kitchen, before flicking off the lights and the television. Jake crawled under the table, watching me curiously as I checked that the gas was off and that everything was in order.

"Keep the house safe for me, okay, Jakey?" I murmured.

Jake whined.

I opened the front door, glad that it wasn't raining. I doubted even Alice could save my hair when my hair straightener and the weather clashed.

I stared mournfully at the relatively new silver Volvo parked outside in my driveway. Unfortunately, my old truck had wheezed it's last breath a year ago outside Newtons'. Alice and Rosalie had been more than excited, refusing to mourn the loss of my baby. They had trampled all over it's memory when they went out and bought the Volvo less than a day later. They had added insult to injury by refusing to let me pay for it.

As I climbed into the leathery interior, I missed the truck more than ever. The noise of the engine had been so loud that I could barely hear myself think — exactly what I needed. When I thrust my keys into the ignition of the Volvo, it hummed quietly to life.

With a long, quiet and inevitably painful journey ahead of me, I sank into the seat and put the car in reverse.

**A/N:  
Please please please review. I tend to write faster with a smile on my face :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reviewing!!!! And, as usual, thanks to my beta Fragile Human because, well, duh... she _rocks_. Enjoy...**

**~*~Edward~*~**

I didn't wake until five that afternoon. I felt lethargic and heavy, like I'd been sleeping for a week instead of thirteen hours, and it didn't help that Emmett had just installed a Playstation next door and had the volume up as high as it could go.

I crawled out of bed and into the shower, letting the cold water wake me up.

When I was clean and wearing fresh clothes, I barged into Emmett's room without knocking. He was on his feet instantly, gun drawn and expression alert before the door had even opened fully.

I rolled my eyes at him, raking my hand through my damp bronze hair. "What's the agenda for tonight?"

"Jasper rang," Emmett said, relaxing. He shoved his gun into the back of his pants, grabbing the Playstation controller. "We're heading out tonight to poke around Forks a bit. Well, actually, _he_ thinks we're poking around a bit. I just want to check out the angles that the photos were taken at."

"Good idea." I rubbed my eyes tiredly.

"Edward?" Emmett paused the game in front of him, his expression wary. "I'm trusting you with my career, you know? Lying to The Boss better be worth it."

"Charlie Swan isn't a joke," I said carefully, trying to reign in my anger. Rationally, I knew where Emmett was coming from. He'd never even met Bella. He didn't understand how imperative I felt it was for me to keep her safe. Hell, _I_ didn't even understand it. "It's serious if he can't trust his own people to get the job done. There is a reason he picked _me_, Emmett, over his own people. He may have picked one of the only people in the world who would rather burn alive than lay a hand on his daughter. I have no idea _how_ he knows that, but it's true."

"Do you love her?" Emmett stared at me, a peculiar expression on his face. Like… _fascination_. And, objectively, I saw why. He'd never once seen me become emotionally entangled with anyone. It was selfish, but I put myself and my job before almost anything.

"No." I couldn't explain it to Emmett. I had never explained it to anyone before, least of all myself. The compulsion to protect Bella was ingrained. It always had been, even before I'd known her name. No matter how frustrated or angry I felt with her, it was still there. "She's family," I said stiltedly. She _wasn't_ family, at least, not like Alice was. "I protect my family."

"So if, say, someone kidnapped your mother. You'd lie to The Boss to save her?" Emmett asked.

"My mother's dead," I said bluntly. "The Volturi hunted down her killer and locked him away for a _very_ long time. I owe them a lot. But I'm still going to lie to them. Does _that_ convince you that lying is worth it?"

Emmett stared at me silently for a moment, his brow creased. Then, he rolled his eyes. "What the hell. I'm in."

"Do you need me to go out with you two tonight?" I asked, changing the subject.

Emmett shrugged, his attention refocusing on the television screen. I pulled out my cell phone, typing in Carlisle's number. Emmett swore under his breath, his entire body shifting on the bed as he tried to drive his wrecked car past another equally damaged vehicle. He barely glanced at me as I walked back outside into the cool, autumn air.

Carlisle answered on the fourth ring, sounding drowsy.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" I asked.

"Edward! Oh, no, you didn't. I just got up," Carlisle responded. "I was about to ring you anyway. Esme is cooking a homecoming dinner for you. I thought it might be the perfect chance to speak to Bella about your accommodations."

"That sounds good. What time do you need me?"

"Around eight. You can come earlier if you want. Esme's dying to see you." Carlisle chuckled and I heard a lilting, female voice in the background. There was a brief shuffling sound, before Esme's voice filtered through the speaker.

"Hello, honey," she said warmly.

"Hi, Esme." I smiled slightly, moving to lean against the wooden railing of the decking outside the motel rooms. The parking lot was half-empty and two people were standing, talking to each other in low voices outside a worn looking car. It looked like they were probably sneaking away from their spouses for a secret rendezvous. "I hope you're not going to too much trouble, cooking dinner."

"Edward!" Esme scolded. "Will you for God's sake let me fuss over you and stop being such a spoil sport?!"

"Yes, ma'am," I grinned. "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"Dress smart." She hung up on me and I laughed quietly to myself, feeling a rush of affection for my father's fiancé. It had taken them long enough to finally decide to get married — they were perfect for each other. When my mother had been alive, my father had been completely devoted to her but their relationship had been rocky. He was a city man, through and through, and she wasn't great at hospital politics when it came to social dinners. They had been very mismatched, though they loved each other.

I grabbed my car keys, ducked into Emmett's room to tell him that I was going out and that I wouldn't be able to join him and Jasper on their Forks tour. I got into the Aston Martin, marveling again at how beautiful the engine ran, and took it for a spin downtown.

I had a Volturi platinum credit card with me, to buy whatever essentials I needed on a job. It meant that I didn't have to stick to cheap, unknown brands when it came to clothes and I was able to look the part for any occasion. I used it to buy appropriate clothing for this evening, as well as a few t-shirts and wife beaters.

I walked around Seattle for a bit, just getting used to being back in the U.S. The place felt so unfamiliar after having spent so long in Europe. England had been easy to adjust to. I blended better there, with my accent and mannerisms. Russia had been the worst. Tanya Denali had been touring the Ukraine, promoting her album, and although I'd been with her for almost four months, I had failed to pick up a word of Russian.

I stopped outside a fashionable, modern looking building, recognition dawning when I noticed the name of the place. "Twilight" was written in big, silver lettering.

I opened the glass door, stepping into the large foyer. All the walls were made of glass on the inside, except the one that enclosed the back office and the staff room. There were quite a few people inside, some of them sitting at desks, some of them sitting on leather sofas. A wooden, spiral stairway wound up onto the second floor. Low, elevator music filtered through speakers in the ceiling.

I approached the reception area, my training kicking in as I swept my gaze over the building, automatically checking the exits and scanning people for potential threats.

"Hello and welcome to Twilight. If you would like to make an account, please sign here and we'll hook you up with your very own Fairy Godmother. If you're already a member, please state your identification code and take a ticket." The receptionist, a tall, exquisitely beautiful blond smiled pleasantly at me, having finished her well-practiced speech. She looked like she could have been a model, with smoldering grey eyes and a honey-gold tinge to her perfectly sleek hair.

"Actually, I'm looking for Alice Brandon," I said smoothly, affecting some of that English charm Emmett was always complaining about. She stared at me for a second, her lips pursing slightly.

"One second." She smiled speculatively, probably trying to work out what my relationship with Alice was, and pressed a button on the telephone in front of her. "Alice?"

"Yep?" Alice's lilting, musical voice answered.

"There's someone here to see you." She looked up at me pointedly.

"Edward," I supplied helpfully.

"Edward?" The blond said into the receiver.

Alice's squeal was almost deafening. I heard a loud, clattering noise upstairs before someone streaked down the stairs, launching themselves at me before I had a chance to brace myself. She hit me like a wrecking ball in the stomach and my arms automatically closed around her, enveloping her in a tight hug.

"What are you doing here?!" she shrieked against my chest. Jesus, I'd forgotten how tiny she was. I pulled away slightly, staring down at my soon-to-be stepsister. Her hair was cropped fashionably short, framing her soft, angelic face. Though she was still small, she had obviously grown into a very attractive woman in the last six years. Her eyes were still the same hazel color that I remembered and her enthusiasm was just as infectious.

"I missed you, Shortie," I admitted, ruffling her hair like I used to. She slapped my hand away, glaring at me, but the glare didn't last long. Suddenly, she squealed again, biting her lip in an attempt to contain herself.

The blond behind the desk started laughing. "Shortie?" She snorted indelicately.

"Shut up, Rose." Alice shot her a dark look.

The blond stuck up her middle finger at Alice. I presumed, then, that Alice _wasn't_ the receptionist's boss and that the blond was, in fact, Alice's partner in crime, Rosalie Hale.

"This is Edward, my new stepbrother," Alice said giddily as she grabbed my arm. "Edward, this is my best friend and business partner, Rosalie Hale."

"Esme wasn't kidding, huh?" Rosalie said as she shook my hand. She winked at me. "You're _gorgeous_."

Well, she was definitely blunt.

"It's just his accent," Alice stated, rolling her eyes. "Oh!" Her nails dug into my arm. "Now that you're here, you _have_ to let me do your profile!"

"No," I said automatically. "No fucking way, Shortie. I can get my own dates, thank you."

"I should hope so," Rosalie said as she arched one brow.

"_Edward_!" Alice whined.

"Forget it. I'm trained in war combat. You. Won't. Break. Me." I smirked down at her.

Alice huffed. "You're as stubborn as _Bella_."

"Always was," I countered.

"Oh!" Alice jumped. "_You_ could convince her. She hasn't had a proper date in months and I'm convinced that if she just _tried_ —"

Bella. Date. Another man.

Fuck no.

It was the most paralyzing feeling, like turning the key in a rusty lock and having everything tumbling out on top of you, swallowing you in an avalanche of flashbacks, memories. I was eighteen again, my hands clenching into fists, a building rage taking over my entire body.

But I _wasn't_ eighteen.

Aro had taught me to contain my anger a _long_ time ago.

I was in control.

"I'm not going to convince her to do anything. Bella can do what she wants to do. She always has." I hoped that Alice didn't pick up on the tension in my voice but it was _very_ difficult to swallow. I remembered that I had lied to world leaders, to the most skilled FBI officers and that I was now lying to my boss, and forced myself to relax.

If I could lie to _them_, I could hide my emotions from a twenty-four year old matchmaker.

Alice pouted. "Hey, you owe me! It's been six years without even _one_ visit."

"If I give in to that now, you're just going to use it to get your way every time," I pointed out.

"See, I _knew_ there was a reason I didn't miss you."

I grinned down at her. "You missed me, Shortie. You love me. You've been pining after my ass for _years_. You —"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Glad to see your maturity has improved. Listen, I'll talk to you at dinner tonight. I have to finish up here and get changed before seven thirty."

"Okay. See you later." I leaned down, kissing her quickly on the cheek. "Bye, Rosalie."

"Bye, Gorgeous."

I smirked, waving briefly as I headed for the exit. I walked back to my car, dialing Emmett's number as I climbed into the vehicle.

"I'm leaving now," Emmett said as soon as he answered the phone.

"Good. She'll be out of the house tonight. You shouldn't have any problems."

"Excellent. What are you doing?"

"I'm going to reunion," I said tiredly. "I probably won't stay at the motel tonight. Dad's going to help me convince Bella to let me stay with her until the wedding."

"Oh, it's _Bella_, is it?" Emmett teased.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut your mouth," I said warningly.

"I thought you didn't fuck a subject," Emmett continued, ignoring my warning.

"I don't," I growled.

"I'm sorry," Emmett said, trying mimic my accent. "_Make love_ to a subject. Who knew you were such a girl, Edward?"

I hung up, losing patience. I drove back to the motel, grabbing my purchases from the back seat. I shaved and changed into a pair of dark blue jeans and a black shirt. I grabbed my overnight bag and the weapons that I had taken from my locker back at the base the night before.

I stored it all in the trunk of my car and went back into the motel room to make sure that I hadn't left anything behind. When I was satisfied, I returned to my car and started the drive to Port Angeles.

I fiddled with the radio, stumbling onto a soothing, classical station and I forced myself to relax my tense muscles as I pulled out of the motel parking lot.

It was hard to decide which part of tonight would prove to be the most difficult: seeing Bella again, or convincing her to let me stay at her house for two months. Even if I _did_ convince her, the chances of the arrangement working out were slim to none. There was no way that we would survive in the house for two months together without almost killing each other first.

Nothing about this job was going to be easy.

The lights of Seattle gradually faded and with the approaching darkness, my apprehension grew. Coming back here would be the hardest thing that I would ever have to do — which was probably why I hadn't attempted it during the last six years.

Was it rational to be afraid of a woman? Considering my line of work, I probably sounded like a pussy.

As I neared Port Angeles, Emmett texted me a cryptic progress report.

_Climbing trees. Vehicle involved. Hired professional?_

Who would hire a professional to spy on Bella? I gritted my teeth in frustration. I did _not_ like this situation one bit. I hated that I wasn't returning home on my own terms and I hated that anyone had chosen to mess with Bella when I wasn't there.

They were messing with the wrong people, whoever they were.

Just before I reached the "WELCOME TO PORT ANGELES" sign, I turned off the road onto a fairly smooth back road that had recently been re-surfaced. About a mile down the road, it widened into a long driveway.

The white brick house at the end of the drive was relatively big. Most of the lights were on, flooding the grounds with light and I was overwhelmed with a sense of homecoming as I drove up the driveway and parked the car outside the garage. Carlisle's Mercedes was already in the open garage, alongside a BMW and a bright red Beetle. The Beetle _had_ to be Alice's, I thought with a wry grin.

I climbed out of the car, locked it, and made my way up to the front door. I rang the doorbell, shifting awkwardly on the front step. I heard the click of heels in the hallway outside before the door slid open.

"Hi, Esme."

I watched as Esme's expression transformed as she beamed at me, practically shoving me through the door before she pounced on me, like Alice had.

"Oh my God, you're really here!" she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around my waist, almost squeezing the life out of me. She was taller than Alice, though not by much, her head reaching my Adam's apple.

I breathed in the scent of her perfume and the familiarity of her touch, overwhelmed with affection.

"You look beautiful," I murmured as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, returning her embrace. She had gotten dark blond high lights in her caramel colored hair and it really brought out the brown in her eyes. She looked absolutely radiant — almost as radiant as the gigantic rock on her finger. "He really went all out, didn't he?" I grabbed her hand, examining the ring.

Esme flushed in pleasure. "I don't even want to _know_ how much he spent."

"It's beautiful. It suits you," I said.

Esme smiled at me, linking her arm through mine. "You always were a flatterer. Any lady friend I should know about now you're here?" Her question was very pointed.

"_You've_ been reading too many gossip columns," I said dryly.

"So it's not true, then? You're not with that – that, uh, _tart_?" Esme whispered the last word, glancing around to make sure that nobody had heard her.

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, Ez, I'm not."

"Good." Esme looked relieved. "I heard you met Rosalie earlier. She's a piece of work, that one."

"Are you playing matchmaker?" I cocked my brow.

Esme flushed. "Is it that obvious?"

"I don't have time for a girlfriend, Ez. I'm too busy saving the world, these days." _One little pop-tart at a time_, I added silently. God, accepting the Tanya Denali case was the worse decision of my life.

"Well, I'm glad you're home for awhile. Carlisle told me that you're working and I won't pretend that I approve but you gotta do what you gotta do, I suppose. At least I get to see you." Esme leaned into me, giving me a one-armed hug, and I got the sneaking suspicion that she wasn't going to let go of me once while I was here tonight.

"So what's cooking?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Beef casserole," Esme said. "That okay?"

"Delicious," I smiled.

"IS THAT EDWARD?" A few seconds after her shout, Alice appeared in the hallway, dressed in a light pink dress and astronomically high heels. "I thought so! Come on, we have to talk." She grabbed my arm, pulling me away from Esme. Esme made a face at Alice, but she released me anyway.

"I have to go check on the food," she said, patting my arm in a motherly kind of way.

"You do that," Alice told her impatiently. Esme rolled her eyes, heading off in the direction of the kitchen. Alice pulled me into the living room and tugged me down onto the sofa beside her. I glanced around, taking in the subtle changes. Alice and Bella's graduation photos had been added to the photographs on the mantelpiece, as well as a picture of Alice cutting a large, red ribbon outside _Twilight_. It was probably the opening day.

"Please, _please_ tell me that you're not dating Tanya Denali," Alice demanded promptly.

I cocked my brow. "Why?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "You're such a guy. You two obviously have _nothing_ in common, but am I to presume the sex is good?"

I thought of Tanya Denali, her strawberry blond curls and sex-symbol smile. She probably featured in the wet dreams of thousands of males worldwide, and that wasn't even an exaggeration. She had been voted one of the most beautiful women in world last year in some women's magazine.

But she wasn't and would never be my type.

"I don't know, I've never tried it," I said honestly.

Alice exhaled in relief, her smile dazzling when she beamed at me. "Good. So, any hot work partners I should know about?"

My brow rose. "I'm not gay, Al."

Alice rolled her eyes. "For _me_, idiot."

"Well, there's _Emmett_." I started laughing at the thought of the two of them together. Emmett's James Bond lines would _never_ work on my stepsister and there was no way that she could break him. Plus, they were both the extreme opposite of the other physically. The chances of them working out was laughable. "He's my work partner. He's staying in Seattle for a few months while I'm here. He's charming, horny and almost as muscular as I am." Jesus, I sounded like Emmett's pimp.

"Sounds delicious." Alice grinned at me. "So, do I have to hook _you_ up with anyone?"

"No," I said hastily.

"I'd suggest Rose, but she already has a boyfriend." Alice's eyes turned dreamy. "His name's Royce. He's the Chief of Police in Seattle and he's _gorgeous_."

"I don't want Royce, either."

Alice stuck her tongue out at me and I snickered, leaning back into the sofa. Alice sighed, curling up against my side. She really was tiny, like a child.

"It's good to have you back," she said quietly.

I shrugged, not answering. After a few minutes, Carlisle peeped his head in the door, rolling his eyes at the pair of us on the sofa.

"Dinner will be ready in ten," he announced. "Bella should be here soon." He glanced out the window, as if expecting her to show up just as he mentioned this fact, but there were no approaching car lights.

Carlisle nodded once at me, winking casually, and I knew that my accommodations for the next two months would be sorted. And I knew exactly how he was going to do it. He knew that Bella was a sucker for Esme's happiness and he was going to use Esme to guilt trip her into a agreeing. I did _not_ want to see this pan out because if I knew anything about Bella it was that she didn't like being boxed into corners, but it was for her own safety, whether she realized it or not.

Alice shifted, climbing off the sofa. She glanced outside, her expression brightening when a pair of lights appeared at the end of the drive. "Oh, good. Bella's here!"

I stood up, watching the car headlights make their way up the long drive. With a sense of inevitability, I followed Alice to the door.

_Here goes nothing_.

**A/n:**

**Yeah, I know, WTF am I thinking, leaving it there? Well, the good news is: Reunion next chapter. The amount of reviews I've been getting per chapter is decreasing so if ya want to read the next chapter ASAP (and it's MUCH longer too) start clicking the review button and make me giddy with happiness - I'll be SO happy, in fact, that I'll have even MORE written and then... guess what? I'll update even FASTER! :D xxx**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:  
Hey!! So... this was supposed to be up sooner, but then I rewrote it and came up with an idea... that I'll talk more about at the end! Thank you to my kickass beta, Fragile Human. Because, well, she kicks ass! And, of course, my reviewers and readers who I cannot live without, no kidding. **

**~*~Bella~*~**

By the time I made it to the turn-off just outside Port Angeles for Carlisle and Esme's house, my hands were shaking. My grip on the steering wheel was tentative at best and I was almost positive that if I'd had to drive any further, I would have caused an accident.

I drove up the long, winding driveway and parked the Volvo close to an impressive looking sports car, my stomach dropping anxiously.

He was here. That was probably his car.

I climbed carefully out of the Volvo, grabbing my clutch bag from the passenger seat, and took a deep breath. I could do this. I was a big girl now. Tonight would be nothing. I would prove to myself that I _was_ growing a backbone.

"Bella!"

I looked up as Alice pulled open the front door, stepping out onto the porch in heels that guaranteed death. She smiled warmly, waiting for me to walk up to the porch.

"Am I late?" I winced, offering Alice an apologetic smile.

Alice shook her head. "You're just in time. I love your dress; where'd you get it?"

"I don't know, one of the shops at Stafford Junction in Seattle?" I said. Alice smiled enthusiastically, stepping back inside the house. I followed her inside, my heart in my mouth and my pulse ricocheting around in my chest.

"I'll just go tell Esme that you're here." Alice skipped off toward the kitchen while I awkwardly closed the front door behind me, praying silently that my hands would stop shaking. It took all of my willpower not to sag against the front door and black out, but somehow, I managed to stay upright.

"Bella."

I jerked around, my heart slamming against my ribs, and came to face-to-face with Adonis himself.

_Edward?_

It _was _him, but he had… changed. A _lot_. His hair was shorter, slightly longer than a buzz cut, but it was still the same brilliant bronze. His shoulders had broadened out and his body was ninety per cent taut, lean muscle. He was leaning casually against the living room door frame, his dark green eyes once frighteningly expressive, staring back at me, completely inscrutable.

My knees almost buckled with the multitude of long buried emotions that rose swiftly to the surface, exploding through my system like a dangerous fireworks display. My muscles locked, my throat tightened, and I almost forgot how to breathe.

Anger surged to the forefront of my brain. I wanted to cry; an unfortunate consequence of having tear ducts wired to feelings of anger and frustration, but I forced my spine to stiffen and I stared back at him with as much courage as I could muster.

"You're really here." I said it like an accusation, before I could stop myself. There was an implied, _"You promised" _tagged on at the end.

Edward's unreadable expression abruptly smoothed out into a knowing look, his lips tugging into an arrogant grin. "_You're_ really here," he said casually. "I'm surprised."

_He'd thought that I'd refuse to come? _An embarrassed flush began to creep its way up my neck, when I thought back to how close I'd come to doing exactly that.

And _Oh God, his voice!_ It was deeper, huskier than it had been before, but it was still like muted velvet; melodic and perfect. I hated it.

"I don't care," I said, forcing a sliver of indifference to color my tone. It didn't matter how much I'd tried to improve my lying skills, I think he could see the truth anyway. That I was confused; that I didn't _know_ if I cared if he was here or not.

Edward's eyes flashed with dark amusement, confirming my suspicions. "I never once presumed you cared, Bel — and as I recall, you never did."

"I cared enough to —" Breath hissed through my teeth and I broke off abruptly, my blood like ice. "_Don't_ call me Bel."

Edward's eyes gleamed with an unfamiliar, almost _predatory_ look. "Cared enough to what?" he demanded softly. I knew that he was baiting me, waiting for me to say the words out loud — like it didn't mean anything to him.

But then, I already knew that it didn't. He had walked away, leaving me with the promise that he would never come back and he didn't care enough to even keep _that_.

The dull, hollow ache that had once resided in the pit of my stomach flickered to life, pulsing with a heartbeat of old hurts and new, fresh realizations. Six years ago I'd moved to Forks to escape this, to start over without the ghost of _him_ invading my thoughts and my house.

"I think you need to stay out of my way while you're here," I said instead.

Wicked amusement glittered in his eyes. "Why? Are you tempted?"

A retort sprang to my lips before I realized that that was exactly what he wanted — to bait me. We had slipped back into our old routine without thought… what did _that_ bode for the future? What had happened to being in control? I _wasn't_ a naïve teenager anymore! Uncertainty pulsed through my thoughts.

"I'm done," I said finally, mentally washing my hands of all this bullshit.

Alice heaved a dramatic sigh as she flitted back into the hallway, rolling her eyes at both of us. "You two haven't changed at all! Ugh! Dinner's ready."

I forced my body to relax and my expression to smooth out into something at least remotely close to pleasant. I hurried to follow Alice but I could feel Edward's eyes on my back, watching my every movement. This night was going to be impossible.

I walked into the huge dining room, smiling at Esme as I entered.

"Hey, Esme." I kissed her on the cheek in greeting and she squeezed my arm affectionately.

"You look lovely tonight, sweetheart," she murmured in my ear.

I smiled hesitantly at her, trying to avoid looking at Edward as I moved around the table to sit beside Alice. Esme sat down opposite me, beside Edward, while Carlisle took his usual spot at the head of the table.

"Welcome home, son," Carlisle said, his voice thick with emotion, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward incline his head, offering Carlisle a grin.

Alice raised her wine glass. "To Edward's homecoming."

We raised our wine glasses, echoing the toast, before conversation really broke out. Alice had gotten a slew of new clients this week that she was excited about and she spent a good twenty minutes sharing her ideas about how she was going to pair them off with some of her other clients.

"… and, of course, Eric Yorkie decided to avail of my help." Alice smirked at me slyly.

"I will never forgive you for that, Alice," I said darkly. "That was _the_ worst date of my life."

"Oh, come on, Bella. It can't have been that bad," Esme laughed.

"Are you kidding? First of all, he brought me _roses_ —" I started to explain.

"You don't… like roses?" Carlisle frowned in confusion.

I opened my mouth to answer, but someone else beat me to it.

"She's allergic." I stiffened at the sound of his voice, surprise flickering through me when I realized that he remembered. Alice forgot on a regular basis though she tended to forget everything but shoe sizes and client compatibility scores. Edward glanced up at me, as if sensing my incredulity, and said, "Right?"

"Yeah." I went back to picking at my food, suddenly not feeling very hungry. The others didn't seem to find the fact that Edward remembered things like that about me weird at all but then, Edward and I — while we'd kept a lot of what had happened between us a secret — had openly had a strange dynamic.

"Kate's coming up with the kids soon, isn't she?" Carlisle asked Esme.

Kate Ward née Platt was Renee and Esme's sister, and my aunt. She and her husband, Garrett, traveled a lot with their two young kids, Alec and Jane, and they were currently renting a house in Jacksonville, Florida.

"Yes, she's arriving in a couple of days to help me plan the wedding. I don't know where we'll put her with Edward staying in his old room," Esme said, frowning worriedly.

"I'd offer but Rosalie's staying in my guestroom. All I have is a lumpy sofa and if Kate brings the kids, they'll never all fit in my apartment," Alice said.

"Esme already told her she could stay here anyway, because we didn't know that Edward was going to be here," Carlisle said regretfully.

"I could take her and the kids," I suggested. "I have two rooms."

"That's lovely, sweetheart, but most of the florist and catering appointments are really early in the morning and she'd have to be getting up at the crack of dawn to make it to Seattle on time. You know how long a drive it can be," Esme said anxiously.

I hadn't thought of that.

"What if Edward —?" Carlisle asked hesitantly, glancing at his son.

_No!_ Every rational bone in my body rebelled against that suggestion, my stomach rolling nauseously at the idea of being around him constantly for the next two months.

In my house. In my personal space. Invading my life.

NO!

"Oh, but that's perfect!" Esme clapped her hands, something suspiciously Alice—y of her to do. "What do you think, Bella? You'd be doing me a _huge_ favor and at least then I'd know that Edward was doing okay and not sleeping in his car."

Why, why, _why_ did I have to be such a pushover? I felt like I was being forced to choose between Esme and my sanity and because I was so fucking _in_sane, my conscience was steering me in Esme's direction.

But I couldn't have Edward in my house. I _couldn't_.

Not after everything.

Not after he promised that he wouldn't come back.

"It's okay," Edward said to Esme, his voice reassuring. "I can find somewhere."

But then Esme's face crumbled and I felt so _guilty_. Esme had taken me in when my mother couldn't look after me; she'd raised me as her own. I owed her so much — this was the least that I could do, even if it threatened every semblance of sanity I had left.

"No," I said, my voice wavering slightly as I took a deep breath. "You can stay with me."

**~*~Edward~*~**

I couldn't take my eyes off her but that was nothing new. It was something that our family accepted unconditionally even if they never really understood why. Hell, even _I'd_ never really figured out why.

From the moment that I'd seen her in the hallway, her hands trembling as she mentally pulled herself together, I'd been unable to stop looking, fascinated by the changes in her appearance after six years.

She was… a woman. Not the little girl that I'd remembered, slinking around in my shadow with her heart on her sleeve. Outwardly, she was beautiful. She had always been beautiful, but she was… stunning now, her sleek, brown hair tumbling over her shoulders, longer than it had ever been, and her bottom lip curving into a natural, irresistible pout.

But there was a new resolve in her eyes, a hollowness that I doubt even _she_ knew was there. But I'd always been able to read her.

Bella watched Esme's face crumble and the guilt that flickered in her eyes resonated in _me_. _I_ was the one that had cornered her.

"No," she said shakily. "You can stay with me."

There was no victory in her capitulation, only the knowledge that I could protect her now. There was a long, tense silence as we both stared at each other. She tried to keep her face expressionless but I could see the fear lurking in her eyes.

"_I cared enough to —"_

If she had really been in love — _really_, heart and soul, in love — then she wouldn't have forced me to make that promise to her. Making me promise to never return had made leaving that much easier, knowing that I'd finally been woken out of an emotionally draining daydream and been presented with the reality of our situation.

_We were killing each other._

Carlisle chuckled suddenly, startling both of us. My eyes swerved in his direction as he shook his head. "So _this_ is how awkward it is when you two aren't at each other's heads? It's no wonder you used to fight so much."

Esme and Alice laughed and with most of the tension diffused, conversation continued as normal. After dinner, Alice and Bella offered to help Esme with the washing up but before Bella could follow them into the kitchen, I darted out of my seat, snagging her wrist and pulled her toward the dining room doors that led out onto the veranda that had definitely not been there six years ago.

As soon as my fingers curled around her wrist, a familiar, tense jolt of electricity darted up my arm and I heard Bella gasp softly, shock momentarily paralyzing her and making it extremely easy for me to pull her outside.

Once out on the veranda, though, she tugged her arm forcefully out of my hold and although I could have stopped her easily, I let her go. I walked away from the doors, leaving her standing alone in a shaft of light, and leaned back against the wooden railing, my hands shoved in my pockets.

The handle of my gun brushed my knuckles but I deliberately ignored it.

"I presume that there's a reason you dragged me out here," Bella said irritably, her lips pursing as she stepped forward, her hand trembling slightly as she reached out to grip the railing. She stared out at the dark garden, her dark curls swirling gently around her face in the light breeze.

I wanted to reach out and wind my finger around a strand, just to feel the texture.

"We need to talk," I said quietly.

"You can't stay with me," she blurted out. "I'm sorry, but you can't. I only said yes for Esme's peace of mind." She sounded slightly panicked.

"Because you don't trust me."

"Because I don't trust —" She exhaled sharply, her shoulders tense. I reached over before I could stop myself, brushing my knuckles over the silky, pale skin of her arm. She jumped but she didn't jerk away. "Stop," she murmured.

I dropped my hand. "You never told anyone, did you?"

"Did _you_?"

"It was different for me. I wasn't lying to the people who deserved to know most," I pointed out.

"And _I_ was supposed to shoulder the consequences alone?" Her voice was cold. "No, it's better that we kept it a secret. It's better that it _stays_ a secret."

Anger surged through me without warning and I pinched the bridge of my nose, working to keep my voice even. "Are you _that_ ashamed of being my wife?"

Bella visibly flinched. "Don't _say_ that out loud!" she hissed.

I gritted my teeth, my eyes flicking over the dark garden. Even in the dark, I could see the outline of the tree house that Carlisle had helped me build during our first summer here, before Esme moved in.

"It's not like it was legal anyway," Bella said after a few seconds, her voice barely audible.

"Bella, it was Vegas, not _Alice_ who married us," I said bluntly. "Of course it was legal. We got a license."

Bella froze and I watched as all the color drained from her face. "_What?" _She looked like she was about to be violently sick, her fingers gripping the railing too tightly. "We're still — _married_?!"

"Six years, seven months and twelve days, baby," I confirmed, my mouth tilting into a hard, darkly amused grin. My grin began to fade, however, when panic and anger slowly ignited in the depths of her brown eyes. How could she not have known? It wasn't like she walked around with her head in the clouds. Before, when it came to anything but our relationship, Bella had been level-headed and rational. She signed the register. She _was_ my wife.

She opened her mouth once but snapped it shut just as quickly, her jaw working as she tried to think of something to say.

When she finally _did_ think of something, her words made me want to break something. "I want a divorce."

Possessive anger snaked through my veins, poisoning my thoughts. I could taste the bitter flavor in my mouth. Bella might have gotten over her infatuation and I might have broken that dream the night I walked out, but even my cynically minded brain could register that I still wanted some sort of claim on her.

The thought of another man touching her, of being inside her, filled me with the most intense fury that my fists clenched, my temper swiftly reaching breaking point.

The word "no" was poised on my lips but really — what choice did I have? We might have still been married on paper but it had been an extremely long time since Bella and I were actually _married_.

I reached over, my thumb gliding resentfully over her full bottom lip. She flinched, her breath catching, but she didn't pull away. Her eyes watched me carefully, guarded in a way that they'd never been before.

_She's shielding herself from me, _I realized. I'd once been able to read every expression on her face like an open book — how could she hide from me now?

"Let me stay with you for two months," I said quietly, my mind working quickly. "Just until after the wedding — and I'll give you a divorce."

Bella nodded wordlessly, inhaling shakily.

"That is, if you still want one," I added with a slow, amused smirk. She was fucking kidding herself if she had convinced herself that she didn't want me anymore. And I could do a lot with want, manipulate it.

For now, she _was_ still mine.

I brushed my thumb once over her lip, applying the slightest pressure, and her eyes fluttered heavily, like she was struggling to keep them open.

I stared at her mouth, mentally weighing up the chances of her kissing me back if I _did_ duck my head, but I was abruptly distracted when a flash — so quick that I almost thought I'd imagined it — sparked in my peripheral vision.

Bella jumped, her eyes flying open, and a cold, calculating fist settled in the pit of my stomach.

That had been the flash of a camera.

**A/N:  
Thoughts, anyone??  
Oh, and, I've decided that instead of posting flashbacks, I was going to write their whole past as a separate fanfic, a prequel called Protégé Moi. What do you guys think??? Review please!!!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:  
Hey!! Thanks so much for reviewing!!! :D Fragile Human = could not live without you :)**

**~*~****Edward~*~**

"What was that?" Bella murmured, almost to herself. Then she shook her head, inhaling slowly, as if she was trying to dislodge the image from her mind. "Look, Edward —"

"Hold that thought." I barely glanced at her as I brushed past her, striding purposefully across the veranda, to the steps leading down onto the lawn. My eyes were glued to the tree house where I was positive the flash had come from.

"Edward?" Bella's confused voice called after me, a sliver of shock still coloring her tone, but in that moment, Bella's _feelings_ didn't matter. My emotions had officially gone into lockdown, my training kicking in.

"Go back inside," I said, glancing at Bella. She looked like she wanted to argue but when I narrowed my eyes warningly at her, she rolled her eyes and whirled around, striding back into the house.

As soon as she disappeared through the doors, I bolted across the lawn, my muscles suddenly melting with gratification as the familiar burn began to ignite. I shoved my hand into my pocket, curling my fingers around the Colt and drawing it out.

I felt exposed out in the open and I tried to slink around the edges of the garden, closer to the trees, as my eyes flicked over the tree house, searching for movement.

A brief flash of something reflective, like a watch, caught my eye as someone leapt silently from the tree, darting into the woods. They were fast, but I was faster. I reached the tree house three heartbeats after they disappeared and I disabled the safety catch on the Colt before I ducked between the trees, my eyes focused on the black figure sprinting ahead of me.

I knew these woods like the back of my hand and chances were my prey would get lost easily in the darkness.

My pulse started to race, adrenaline surging through my veins. The thrill of the chase brought a grin to my lips and as I closed in on my quarry, my eyes traced their form, realizing that they ran with a feminine gait.

The chase was over in seconds; I lunged forward, tackling the figure to the ground.

We both landed heavily on the damp bracken, but I landed on top and I quickly shoved their arms above their head, pinning them down. My thighs clamped over theirs and I felt the hard metal of a gun press against my knee.

"Oh, I love a man who can take control," my prey grinned, her white teeth gleaming in the pale moonlight. My hands tightened on her wrists, my chest heaving from exertion as I stared down at her, impersonally raking my eyes over her face. She had a narrow, attractive face with high cheekbones. Full lips, dark eyes and a shock of red hair that tumbled from a black beanie that had slipped off her head while she fell.

She laughed, exhilarated, and attempted to squirm under me, deliberately rubbing up against my crotch. "Like what you see?"

I smirked coldly at her. "Who are you?"

"I can be anything you want me to be, baby," she simpered, fluttering her thick eyelashes seductively.

I leaned down, until my nose was almost brushing hers. I could feel her breath on my lips, close enough that it almost looked like I was about to kiss her.

"Who. Are. You?" I demanded, my voice soft. "And I'd think twice about giving me a smart answer, babe, because I _will_ shoot." I secured her wrists with one hand, waving the Colt in her face for clarification. I aimed the nozzle at her left knee, my brow cocked inquisitively.

"You wouldn't dare," she grinned confidently.

I took aim dispassionately and fired, the tremor of the recoil vibrating up the length of my arm. The shot rang out in the sudden silence, but it wasn't nearly as loud as her scream of agony.

"SON OF A BITCH!" she shrieked.

"Start talking," I insisted coldly.

She started laughing manically, occasionally cursing as pulse after pulse of pain shot through her. "If you hadn't just shot me, I'd think your dedication was fucking hot. And your _accent_ —" she said, her statement marred by a gasp of pain.

I aimed the nozzle of the gun at her right leg.

"Fuck," she bit out. "Don't."

"Talk," I repeated.

"Frankly, I don't get the draw. I'm _much_ prettier than your little mousy-haired whore."

I didn't even bother with a warning this time, my index finger pressing down on the trigger. A second shot rang out and she screamed.

"FUUUUUCCKKKKK!"

"Who the fucking hell _are_ you?!" I hissed.

She ignored me, her screams deafeningly loud. Her voice grated on my eardrums, almost drowning out the sound of approaching footsteps until it was nearly too late. A third gunshot rang out, piercing the silence of the night, but whoever shot at me had very poor aim in the darkness and I felt the bullet shave my shoulder, a prickling, burning sensation erupting where the skin had been sliced off.

The distraction was all the redhead needed. She shoved me off her with more strength than I'd presumed she had and she sprinted into the darkness after the second figure.

I cursed under my breath, slightly winded, and pulled out my cell phone.

Emmett was going to be _pissed_ he missed this shit.

**~*~Bella~*~**

"You two weren't fighting again, were you?" Esme asked, her voice thick with disapproval as I walked back into the kitchen, my hands shaking. I wondered vaguely if I looked as pale as I felt. Actually, I felt like I'd never be warm again.

_I'm married._

"Not really," I muttered, trying to sound blasé but failing miserably. Esme completely misinterpreted my mood, wiping her wet hands on a towel before winding her arms around my shoulders and guiding me over to the small kitchen table.

"It's a shock having him home, I know," Esme smiled, rubbing my arm affectionately.

"A shock," I repeated dully. I watched Alice as she flitted around the kitchen with the cutlery. She winked at me when she noticed me looking in her direction and I half-smiled.

_Edward is my _**husband.**

Esme opened her mouth but she was abruptly cut off by a loud _Crack!_

I jumped, my eyes flying toward the open veranda doors. Alice paused at the sink, her eyebrows drawing together. "Did that sound like —"

"— a gun?" I finished. Panic made my heart start to hammer in my chest as I remembered the brief flash and Edward's sudden rigidness. All three of us looked at each other in bewilderment.

A second _Crack! _echoed through the veranda doors.

"Carlisle!" Esme yelled, her fingers curling tightly around my arm as she tugged me out of my chair. Alice backed away from the kitchen window, following Esme as she dragged me into the hallway. Carlisle was hurrying down the stairway, his blond brow drawn into a harsh frown.

"Wait here," he instructed as he grabbed his black coat from the coat stand inside the door, shrugging it over his shirt. "Stay away from the windows."

My heart felt like it was about to pound right out of my chest. "Edward's out there,.," I said in a small voice. The only thoughts running through my head were, _Oh, God._

Carlisle nodded curtly at me, hurrying toward the veranda doors. The three of us watched him disappear out into the garden and I started to shake, my nerves shot.

"It's nothing, Mom," Alice assured Esme. "It was probably just a car backfiring."

Esme nodded, her nails digging into my arm, but I barely noticed. I was staring at the veranda doors, trying to make sense of the most peculiar feeling that began to creep through my system.

Something was wrong. I don't know how I knew it, but I could feel it like the pulse of a second heartbeat pounding in the back of my skull. Startled, I remembered how Alice had forced me to go to my GP because I suffered from frequent headaches that started out like this, like a pulse in my head. I touched the back of my head gingerly, wondering superstitiously if it was possible that… what if you were so intrinsically linked to someone, you just _knew_ things? Edward knew things about me that I had never told another living soul, all from reading my facial expression and interpreting my thoughts. He'd never been able to do that with Alice, which made our visible friendship all that more… secretive.

The sound of footsteps startled the three of us and instinctively, we stepped deeper into the shelter of the hallway.

When Carlisle appeared in the doorway, Esme exhaled loudly in relief, and he shot a sheepish look behind him before he walked into the living room. Edward stepped into the house behind him, anger radiating off him in waves. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw taut and when he shut the veranda doors, they slammed with unnecessary force into place.

"What happened?" Esme demanded immediately.

Edward scowled. "Car backfired."

I don't know how I knew, considering what an accomplished liar Edward was, but I _knew_ that he was lying. Esme searched his face for a moment, her brow knitted in confusion, but accepted his explanation without comment. She walked into the living room after Carlisle, the panic easing from her limbs. Alice followed her inside, just as confused, but I remained in the hall, the pulse pounding dully in my skull.

"Liar," I accused.

Edward's scowl deepened and my heart started to race — though I wasn't afraid of him. I could count on one hand the amount of times that I'd ever been afraid of Edward in my life. His dark, intense green eyes pierced mine and the _fury_ blazing in their depths left me breathless.

"Drop it," he said curtly. I opened my mouth to argue, but then I noticed the small tear in the sleeve of his shirt and the dark, crimson blood gleaming brightly under the hall light.

"You're hurt." I stepped forward before I could stop myself, lifting my hand to the wound on his shoulder, but the second I inhaled the metallic scent, my stomach suddenly dropped. _God, I hated blood._

Edward jerked his arm away from me, his eyes flashing warningly. "Don't, you'll faint."

I wanted to argue, but he was right. "Carlisle," I called. Edward scowled at me for bringing his wound to the attention of his father, but I refused to acknowledge his glowering mood.

While Carlisle and Edward headed upstairs to the study, I moved to lean against the doorjamb of the living room, taking in the sight of Esme and Alice on the sofa, chatting about the growing success of Alice's business.

I remembered standing in this exact same spot once before, feeling like an outsider as Esme stroked Alice's black curls with a silver comb and attempted to coax her unruly hair into a braid. I remembered the way my stomach had churned with jealousy because _my_ mother wasn't there to braid _my_ hair and hold _me_. Esme might have taken me in and she might have tried as hard as she could to make me part of her family but Alice would always come first for her and I couldn't begrudge Alice that.

I hesitated in the doorway, my thoughts wandering upstairs. _Had Edward been shot? What the hell had happened out there? _I felt suddenly restless to leave the house, to go home. I hated that the house I'd grown up in for most of my life had become a place that I was suddenly wary of — but _something_ had happened outside in that garden and it sure as hell wasn't a car backfiring.

"Oh, Bella — Rose says she's found someone _perfect_ for you!" Alice announced, noticing me standing in the doorway.

I scowled at her, moving to curl up on the armchair across from the sofa. "No way, Alice. Not after Eric —"

"This isn't a joke this time, I promise," Alice insisted earnestly.

Esme chuckled. "I think Bella can find her own dates."

Alice snorted. "Not if Edward's staying with her. He scared off every guy who ever came within a foot of her in high school, didn't he, Bells?"

"Maybe I just need a man with a stronger stomach,.," I countered, smiling dryly. _Like _**they**_ were easy to find. _I briefly thought of Jasper, possibly the only man I knew who had even half a chance of opposing Edward and coming out a victor. I would have considered it, even if it _was_ just to take Edward down a peg or two, if I hadn't needed Jasper's friendship so much. Knowing that he was living down the road from me, within walking distance, was strangely… reassuring.

"Edward's just protective," Esme smiled fondly.

I shrugged noncommittally, wishing that Alice would steer the conversation in a different direction. It wasn't like I really needed to be considering dating when I was…

_Married._

I felt guilty for lying to Esme, Carlisle and Alice all these years — even more so now that I knew that it had actually been _legal_ — but I couldn't bring myself to tell them. Edward would leave again and I could say goodbye to that part of my life without anyone ever having to know.

_It would be as if it never existed._

"Bella?"

I jumped, my eyes flying to the door, where Edward was leaning against the doorjamb, wearing one of Carlisle's white dress shirts. He had the collar popped and two of the top buttons open, revealing a sliver of smooth, pale skin. The fury in his dark eyes had dimmed somewhat, but there was still anger hovering close to the surface.

"Yeah?" My voice sounded weak and croaky.

"Is it alright if we leave now? I need to follow you home since I have no idea where your house is," he said tonelessly.

I nodded slowly, rising from my seat. I said goodbye to Esme and Alice, promising to call them tomorrow, before following Edward outside into the cool night air. I glanced at his profile, feeling, for the first time, like an outsider around _him_. Before, when he'd lied, it always been to protect me — _us_ — or to keep everyone else out. But never _me_. It was a testament to the distance that we'd put between us and I wasn't sure if I liked being on the outside or not.

Still, distance or not, I _knew _that he had lied.

Without a word, I walked toward my car and climbed inside, flipping on the radio. I didn't wait for Edward as I nosed the car back down the driveway, trying to quell the nervous roll of my stomach.

I drove out onto the main road, ignoring the sign that said "WELCOME TO PORT ANGELES", and realized that the burning sensation in my stomach was because I was fighting hard not to cry. Maybe it was a combination of things — the fact that I'd realized we were still married, that Edward might have gotten shot and that he was now _lying_ to me about it — but it felt like something tight and coiled had twisted unbearably tight in my stomach.

And I had _no one_ to talk to about it because I'd lied to _everyone_ all these years. I'd brought it on myself and I had to learn to deal with it _myself_.

Blinking away tears, I yanked the volume of the radio up louder in an attempt to drown out my thoughts.

**~*~**

When we arrived at my house, I fished out my keys, wincing when Jake let out a loud bark when he heard the keys jiggling in my hands. Edward climbed smoothly out of his car, his eyes swerving in the direction of the house when he heard Jake, but he didn't say anything.

I got the door open, rubbing Jake's head affectionately as I stepped inside, letting him bound past me, into the garden. I watched curiously as Jake darted straight for Edward, a low growl escaping his throat.

Edward stooped down, burying his hands in Jake's fur and Jake hummed in appreciation, his tail flying.

_Traitor. _

When Edward let him go, Jake bounded back up the porch steps to me, winding his body around my legs as he watched Edward open the trunk of his car and pull out an overnight bag. It didn't look like he had a lot of stuff.

"Is that all you have?" I asked quietly as Edward approached the porch. He shrugged wordlessly, striding past me when I stepped aside to allow him entrance. "You can put your bag upstairs. The first door on the left is mine but you can have either of the other two rooms."

Edward nodded once, heading for the stairs. I wanted to tell him where everything was so that he wouldn't have to ask later, but he seemed pretty intent on getting out of my presence. Sighing, I kicked off my boots and padded up the stairs with Jake. He nosed open the door of my bedroom, curling up on my rug. The door of my old room was closed and an odd feeling lodged itself in the pit of my stomach at the thought of Edward choosing _my_ room over the other one.

I shook my head, heading into my own bedroom and closing the door quietly behind me. I padded into the bathroom, flipping on the faucet. As if I couldn't help myself, I tugged gently on the door of the medicine cabinet, listening to the click as the latch was released on the inside. Fresh tubes of toothpaste and various toiletries were lined on the two shelves but I pulled some of them out, digging through the cabinet until I found the old, ornamental box that my mother had used to store the earrings that she had inherited from my father's mother — Grandma Marie — on her wedding day. She had taken the earrings with her when she moved but she had gifted the beautiful box to me a long time ago.

I lifted the lid slowly, emptying the contents onto the palm of my hand. The simple gold wedding band gleamed in the overhead orange light, untarnished and perfect.

I sighed, twirling it between my fingers contemplatively.

_Did he still have his? _I doubted it, somehow. I didn't even know why I'd kept _mine_. It meant nothing to me now.

_Liar_.

I dropped the ring back into the box, closing the lid and placing it back behind the bottle of cough medicine. I piled the rest of the items back into the medicine cabinet and shut the door with a resounding click.

I cleaned off my make up and brushed my teeth quickly before walking back inside my bedroom, whispering a quiet goodnight to Jake before climbing into bed.

My eyes fluttered shut, moisture collecting beneath my lashes and for the first time in a very, very long time, I cried myself to sleep.

**A/N:  
Please review!!!**


	8. Chapter 8

**a/N:  
6 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hehe Merry Christmas!! As a Christmas present to all you wonderful readers and reviewers, the next chapter will be longer, deal?? P.s. My beta Fragile Human is the bomb!!!! **

**~*~Edward~*~**

I shoved a hand through my hair, hissing in frustration as I waited for Jasper to e-mail the results of the profile scan to my laptop. It was beyond frustrating that the redhead had slipped from my grip but when Carlisle had come running across the lawn, completely disregarding _any_ common sense, I had wanted to kill someone. He shouldn't have come after me; I was a professional and I could take care of myself. Having him checking on me was just a liability that I didn't want to have to deal with.

I sighed, glancing around the small room. Most of the furniture was relatively new and impersonal but I'd found a few of Bella's old elementary school things shoved in a box at the back of the closet while I was hanging up my own clothes. I presumed that this was her old room, the room she'd used before I'd even known her.

The bed had a simple white duvet and the curtains were a pale blue and white. There was a navy carpet on the wooden floor. The urge to explore while I was waiting on the e-mail was strong and I gave in easily, sneaking noiselessly downstairs.

Bella's house seemed almost too big for her but it had the potential to be cozy. Cookbooks littered the kitchen shelves and I realized that she had been teaching herself to cook over the years. There were chocolate bars hidden in the kitchen utensils cupboard and a pot of Ben & Jerry's in the freezer. There was a photograph of Bella and Alice hanging on the wall above the dining room table, taken on the day that Alice had graduated from college. _Under_ the table, there was a large dog bowl with "JAKE" printed on the side.

The living room was full of cute, mismatched furniture and several of her favorite movies were strewn over the carpet in front of the television. Most of the films were old, like the first version of _Romeo & Juliet_.

I finished poking around in the living room and slipped back upstairs, silently applying pressure on the door handle of Bella's bedroom door. I slid it open soundlessly, my lips pursing into a tight smile of approval when Jake whined quietly, his black eyes staring at me from the rug in front of Bella's bed.

I was beyond grateful that Bella wasn't here alone, even if all she had for company was a friendly Saint Bernard.

As I watched, she muttered something incomprehensible under her breath and shifted uneasily, shoving the blankets around her in a tangled mess. "Jake_," _she breathed quietly, her hand curling into a fist.

Jake's ears perked up, his head swinging in Bella's direction and he stood up, moving to sit by the side of the bed, nuzzling his head against Bella's arm. Bella's fist relaxed and I sighed, feeling ridiculously jealous of the dog.

My eyes raked over her face, drinking in every detail that I had missed before. Her skin remained as pale and untouched as before, her full lips pouting slightly in her sleep. I wanted to brush my thumb over them, just to see if they were as soft as I remembered.

Sighing, I shook my head and backed out of the room. My arm ached where the bullet had grazed my skin and I concentrated on the pain as I pulled my thoughts away from the past. When I headed back inside my room, the screen of my laptop was flashing, announcing an incoming e-mail. I clicked the view button, scanning the details quickly. The redheaded woman's profile hadn't shown up on the database.

I logged off and pulled off my jeans and Carlisle's shirt. I glanced around the room, trying to decide on the best place to hide my weapons for now. I settled for the bottom of the closet, storing the Colt in my weapons bag, before sliding beneath the sheets of the bed. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

**~*~**

I was awake at six, before it was even light. I climbed out of bed, throwing on a pair of black tracksuit pants and a grey hoodie. As I stepped out of my room, my eyes widened in surprise as Bella's bedroom door opened, the handle of the door in Jake's mouth. His tail rose when he saw me, swishing lazily as he darted past me and padded down the stairs. I followed at a slower pace, unlocking the front door and stepping out onto the porch.

It was a typical morning in Forks; damp, misty atmosphere and overcast sky. I rolled my eyes when I found the spare key to the house in a flowerpot on the porch and pocketed it. Jake hurried out the door before I closed it and he followed me when I started jogging down the driveway.

I wasn't familiar with the area so I didn't run far but my muscles reveled in the exercise. There weren't a lot of houses in the neighborhood — Bella was pretty isolated — and I felt a twinge of worry when I thought about how vulnerable she was, living out here. She probably would have been better off living with Carlisle and Esme.

I turned when I reached a Wal-Mart building and whistled for Jake. The dog followed me back to the house obediently, cleverly staying away from the road. Not that we actually passed a single car.

The sun was just rising when we made it back to the house. Jake leapt up onto the porch, breathing heavily, and I jogged up after him, shaking my head in disapproval. "You're not nearly as fit as you should be," I remarked, my breathing perfectly even. My heart rate was slightly out of sync, but otherwise, I felt fine.

Jake growled low in his throat, nudging my leg with his head, and I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. How are you gonna impress the bitches when you're wheezing like an old smoker?"

I unlocked the front door and let myself inside, momentarily floored by the most delicious smell wafting through the house from the kitchen.

Jake dashed inside, barking happily, and I closed the door behind us.

Bella appeared in the doorway, wearing a pair of grey yoga pants that outlined her ass perfectly and a loose-fitting pink hoodie. She was barefoot. My eyes flicked up from her ass as I fought a semi-hard-on and I noticed the tired bags under her brown eyes.

"I'm making waffles," she said quietly, her eyes guarded. "You want some?"

"Sure," I said. "Thanks." She inclined her head, disappearing back inside the kitchen. I hurried upstairs, frowning slightly when I noticed the fresh towels on my bed and the bottle of shampoo. I sighed, realizing that Bella's urge to take care of everyone hadn't lessened in the slightest over the years. I made a mental note to thank her as I grabbed the towels, the shampoo and some fresh clothes and headed into the bathroom opposite my room. It was obvious that Bella didn't use it, as there were no towels on the towel rack and none of her toiletries littered the shelves.

I climbed into the shower, rinsing off the sweat from my run and I washed my hair with the shampoo that Bella had provided. When I had toweled off, shaved and gotten changed into a black t-shirt and dark grey cargo pants, I walked back downstairs, raking my hands through my damp hair.

"Thanks for the towels," I said as I stepped inside the kitchen. Bella was sitting at the table, Jake's head on her lap and her fork playing around with the food on her plate. There was another plate on the countertop and she gestured for me to take it.

I sat down opposite her. "Bella —"

"What did you do to your arm?" she demanded, her brown eyes focused on the bandage that Carlisle had wrapped around my left shoulder.

"Fell against a tree," I lied smoothly.

Bella cocked her brow at me, her lips pursed. "Right. When the car backfired."

"Drop it," I snapped irritably.

"No." Bella's eyes flashed angrily. "I get that you didn't want to worry Esme if there'd been a burglar or something but I think _I_ can handle the truth, Edward."

_Burglars_? God, why hadn't I thought of that? She probably would have dropped the subject if I'd fed her some line about burglars chancing their arm on a pretty house. _Fuck it anyway_.

"And what makes you think that Esme can't?" I snapped my mouth shut because _that_ hadn't been what I had intended to say at _all_.

"I'm just _saying_," Bella said exasperatedly. "You used to trust me with —"

"Yeah, well, look where _that_ got us," I said coldly.

"An estranged marriage," Bella pronounced, before she exhaled loudly. "That had nothing to do with trust, Edward."

"It had _everything _to do with trust." I shoved away from the table because I really didn't want to fucking deal with this now. My main objective was to protect her — and I wouldn't be able to do that if she dragged old arguments into the present and making it impossible for me to _be_ around her.

"Edward!" I heard Bella following me out into the hall and I paused, turning slowly to face her. She stared at me and the anger began to fade from her eyes. She brushed her hair back from her face impatiently and bit her lip. "We need to talk," she said quietly.

"I know."

"Soon," she insisted.

I opened my mouth to reply but I was cut off when my cell phone began to vibrate in my pocket. Exhaling in relief, I tugged it out while Bella turned and walked back into the kitchen, still biting her lip.

I clicked the answer button, holding the cell to my ear.

"Em, what's up?"

"I'm thinking you, me, a diner and some greasy food for breakfast," Emmett said with his usual lack of greeting.

"I'm flattered, mate, but you're not my type," I said dryly.

"Hilarious, Cullen," Emmett drawled sarcastically. "I've been working my ass off trying to I.D. that bitch and I think I deserve a hearty breakfast. And _you're_ paying."

"Well, if you insist." I started walking toward the kitchen. "I'll meet you in Port Angeles. I need to put in some weights at the gym, I'm feeling restless."

"That have anything to do with a certain brunette?" I could hear the amusement in Emmett's voice and it irritated me.

"You think you know, but you have _no_ idea," I said darkly.

"We'll see," Emmett said airily. "Later."

He hung up and I shoved my cell back into my pocket.

"Hey, I'm going to Port Angeles for a few hours. Do you want me to drive you to Alice's or anything?" I asked Bella. I noticed that she had taken my half-eaten plate from the table and was rinsing it under the faucet. Wordlessly, I picked up the dishtowel and waited for her to finish, methodically cleaning the plate and replacing it in the cupboard over the counter.

Bella cocked a brow at me. "How domesticated of you."

My lips tilted upwards of their own accord. "Yeah, I'm housetrained now."

Bella snorted, her eyes lighting with amusement. "Suits you." She offered me a quick smile, but her expression was guarded, difficult to read. A swift, piercing longing surged through me and the urge to tilt her chin up and study the emotions lurking behind her eyes was strong. I'd never wanted to know what she was thinking more. It had always been easy before, reading every thought, every emotion that flashed in those dark, chocolate-colored depths.

She cleared her throat, uncomfortable with my stare. "I'm staying here. I promised my friend Angela that I'd help her out with supervised study at the local high school on Saturdays."

I almost blurted out the word "No". My body swiftly rejected the idea of leaving her alone before my brain could catch up. But there wasn't a lot that I could do without kidnapping her and dragging her into Port Angeles — and then what was I going to do with her? Telling her that she was in danger was a definite _no_. Knowing Bella, she'd want to _help_.

"Okay," I said slowly. And then, although my instincts were screaming at me to stay, I turned and walked down the hall, opened the front door and stepped outside onto the porch.

The drive to Port Angeles was uneventful. I called Emmett when I found a small, friendly looking diner and gave him directions. When he pulled up in his monstrosity of a vehicle, I climbed out of my car and we both strode into the diner together.

There was hardly anyone in the diner; it was too early for the lunch rush and breakfast was just over. Emmett and I grabbed a booth at the back of the restaurant. While Emmett perused the menu, I pulled out my cell and accessed my e-mails.

"Dude, what the fuck is a Duck n'Dip?" Emmett demanded.

I glanced up at him, my brow cocked.

"What?" Emmett shrugged. "There's no picture."

I hit the inbox button, scowling when I realized that there was no news from Jasper. I hated procrastinating on this; I wanted to find that bitch and continue our conversation. I wasn't usually one for torture; actually, it was the one side of my final training exam that I'd gotten a less than exemplary mark in. I'd had to take a crash course before I could retake the exam. But this felt different. That bitch was taking photos of Bella.

"So she's not on any Wanted List, FBI database, her profile doesn't fit anything abroad — she's clean," I said. "Which means she's either a newbie or she's never gotten caught."

"If you got her so easily, I'd guess she's a newbie," Emmett said, momentarily distracted from the menu.

"She handled being shot fairly well," I muttered.

"Speaking of…" Emmett's eyes flared with interest and he lowered the menu completely, his tone deceptively conversational. "For someone so against such violent methods, you sure forgot yourself last night."

"I was doing my job," I said, a tad defensively.

"Sure." Emmett nodded knowingly.

"Can I get you gentlemen anything?"

Both Emmett and I glanced up at the small, blond waitress. She was hardly out of high school, with her blond hair tied back into a ponytail and her uniform — a white t-shirt and light blue shorts — was fitted advantageously to show off her assets. All the better to attract customers.

Her eyes raked over Emmett before coming to settle on me, faint color flaring in her cheeks as she focused her attention on me.

"Umm…" Emmett's eyes flicked over the menu one last time. "I'll have a Duck n'Dip, two sausage rolls and a side of bacon — actually, three sausage rolls. I'm _real_ hungry." He smiled up at her, patting his flat stomach suggestively. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in Emmett's obviously flat abs through his tight black t-shirt. Besides having rapid metabolism, Emmett worked out to the point where he was losing weight rather than gaining it. His cholesterol levels, however, were another story.

"And — and you?" Her expression still scrunched up in disbelief, the waitress turned to me.

"Just a coffee, thanks."

She nodded her head, scribbling the order down on her notepad, before hurrying off in the direction of the kitchen.

"I think I'll go out tonight, investigate the Port Angeles night life," Emmett said decisively as he leaned back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head.

"Keep your cell on you," I warned.

"Aw, come on, come with!" Emmett grinned.

"No, thanks." I wrinkled my nose. "You know I hate drinking on a job."

"Dude, when we were working the Denali case, all you _did_ was drink," Emmett pointed out.

I shot him an obvious look. "And why was that, do you think?"

Emmett rolled his eyes, glancing in the direction of the kitchen. "God, I'm starving."

I grabbed the salt shaker, methodically taking the device apart as my mind wandered. I don't think that I'd really believed that Bella was in danger until I'd caught the redhead and suddenly the decision was starting to feel more real. The more I thought about it, the stronger the urge to hightail it back to Forks was. But Jasper was watching her. As much as I distrusted him, he worked for the Volturi and he knew how to do his job. Bella was safe as she could be right now.

"We need to do profile scans on Bella's neighbors and friends," I said after a few minutes.

Emmett nodded absentmindedly, his eyes still riveted on the kitchen. "I'll get on that later. Anyone in particular I should look at?"

"Rosalie Hale," I said.

Emmett's brow rose but he didn't say anything, which was just as well because I knew exactly what direction his thoughts were going in. But since Angela, the woman that Bella had mentioned earlier, presumably lived in Forks, Jasper probably already had details on her.

The waitress arrived with Emmett's meal and my coffee, blushing when Emmett thanked her profusely before digging into his food.

"Oh, and look for Seth Clearwater," I said abruptly, as the name suddenly drifted into my brain. Emmett froze, the fork halfway to his mouth as he cocked a brow. "Yeah, look for him. I'd absolutely _love_ to know what he's been up to."

The grin that suddenly adorned my mouth had nothing to do with humor.

**A/N:  
Review for an extra long chapter!!!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: This is a few days late but my computer got a virus. Several hours later, chapter 9 was thankfully safe with my beta, Fragile Human (who rocks!!!!!!!!) and ready for you lovies - double the length, like I promised. Happy Christmas/New Years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you all so much for reviewing and reading. I really love the ever lovin' fuck out of you lot! And Fragile Human, because, let's face it, she rocks. LOL.**

**~*~Bella~*~**

Angela was leaning against her car, waiting for me to arrive, when I navigated the Volvo into a parking space outside Forks High School. She straightened as I climbed out of the car, smiling in greeting.

"Hey! I was just about to go in. Coach Clapp just opened the doors," she said as I approached her.

"Oh, good." I rubbed my forehead distractedly. I'd barely slept last night — I'd woken several times to find Jake slobbering all over my hand and I'd had to climb out of bed and wash off all the drool. Alice had warned me that Saint Bernard's were ridiculous when it came to spit but this was beyond a joke.

It didn't help that every time I closed my eyes, all I could think about was the fact that Edward was sleeping across the hall, in my old room. When I'd finally fallen into a light sleep, the dream I'd had had hit _way_ too close to the tiny hole that I'd buried everything inside.

And when he'd come down the stairs after his shower, his bronze hair beautifully tussled and his black t-shirt outlining his washboard abs…

_Shit_.

This was _exactly_ why I couldn't have Edward in my house for two months. I could tell myself that I was over him and that that part of my life was over now, but that didn't stop me from wanting him. I'd always wanted Edward.

And that was a huge, _huge_ part of the problem.

"Are you okay?"

Damn, I'd forgotten that Angela was ridiculously astute.

"I'm fine." I smiled at her, hoping to dissuade her concerns. "Alice's stepbrother is staying with me for awhile before Carlisle and Esme's wedding and I just feel a bit — stressed. Playing hostess, you know?"

"Oh, God, I know _exactly_ what you mean," Angela nodded emphatically. "When Ben's brother and his wife come to stay, the house is _never_ clean enough, there's always food to be cooked… _stressful_ isn't the word."

I nodded in agreement, glad that I didn't have to explain further. Angela opened the door to the school and I followed her inside. Coach Clapp had asked us to fill in for a few teachers who couldn't make it to Forks on weekends a few months ago and I'd been supervising ninth and tenth grade every Saturday morning ever since. The kids were lovely and there was never much trouble, so it was an easy way to make extra money when I would have been sitting at home, lost for something to do otherwise.

I made my way to the designated classroom, pulling out my cell phone while I waited for the kids to start showing up. I had thirty minutes before study was supposed to commence anyway. As soon as I hit the "on" button, a text from Alice flashed on the screen.

_**Hey Bells - Girly Night 2nite. Rose heard new place open nxt 2 S-Junction — A**_

I hesitated, biting my lip. I loved going out with Alice and Rose when they didn't involve blind dates but since Rosalie had started dating Royce, she and Alice couldn't find the fun in triple-blind-dating. Thank God. And I needed to get out of the house or I was going to go crazy with Edward hanging around.

Sighing, I typed:

_**See you at 8? — B**_

"Hey, Bella!" The Mallory twins arrived, grabbing two tables at the back of the room.

"Hey, girls," I smiled. More students started to arrive after the Mallorys had, pulling out books and stationery while Coach Clapp followed them inside to sign their attendance sheets. Alice's reply was enthusiastic.

_**REALLY?! OK! Oh – Rose just said to invite Edward. And his friend. (For me). — A**_

My optimism disintegrated and I wanted to scream in frustration. I couldn't exactly cancel on Alice now because she'd demand to know why but I couldn't go out with her and Rose if Edward was going to be there. My personal feelings on the subject aside, if he was anything like he'd been in high school, my night was about to be insufferably… restricted.

_**Okay. Talk 2 u l8r. — B**_

The two hours at the school flew. I followed the students out of the classroom, said a quick goodbye to Coach Clapp and headed straight out the parking lot, my stomach churning as I struggled to come up with ways out of this predicament.

I was so preoccupied that I didn't see Jasper Whitlock until I walked straight into him.

"Sorry!" I exclaimed as I stumbled slightly, banging my head off his jaw. Jasper caught my arm, his lips tilting into an amused smile as he helped me to right myself.

"Are you okay?" To his credit, Jasper didn't laugh out loud. I'd lost count of the amount of times that Edward had laughed at me for falling. I bit my lip, frowning in consternation when I realized that over the last two hours, my thoughts had somehow swelled to include him — on _every_ topic — and I was beginning to recognize the signs of the old, needy Bella beginning to shove her way through.

Which I couldn't let happen.

The last time I'd let Edward become the focus of my world, my world had imploded and picking up the pieces wasn't something I wanted to do again — under any circumstances.

My world had to be about me.

ME!

"Go out with me tonight," I blurted.

Jasper's eyes widened slightly. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," I said, a bit breathless. "Why not? You're single, I'm single, I've got a feeling I'm going to need back up…"

"Oh!" Jasper's lips twitched, his eyes glittering with barely suppressed humor. "I've been invited for emotional support? I could probably make a business out of this; dates for funerals, weddings —"

"I'm serious," I insisted, my cheeks flushing when I realized that he was making fun of me. It had been a spur of the moment decision, inviting Jasper, but now that I thought about it, the more I thought it was a good idea. If there was one person who could stand up to Edward, it was Jasper. And let's face it — Jasper was hot, he was interesting, and I had a funny feeling that he was a hell of a better kisser than Eric Yorkie.

"I know." Jasper eyed me contemplatively. "What are we talking, here? Dinner?"

"A club," I told him. "You, me and a group of my friends?"

"Perhaps an ex thrown in there?" Jasper prompted. I got the feeling that he saw straight through me and it was unnerving. Not once had anyone been able to do that — not fully, at least — in regards to my relationships. Under ordinary circumstances, I was a freaking open book. But no one, for some strange, confusing reason, had never once guessed that there was something more than friendship going on between Edward and me.

"No — just…" The instinct to deny our past relationship was ingrained; automatic. "The overbearing stepbrother… type. I don't need someone he can send running for the hills with a few choice remarks."

"Well…" Jasper sighed dramatically. "I _suppose_ I could help you out…"

"But?" I grimaced.

"It's going to cost you, Bella," Jasper grinned. Before I could ask him to elaborate, Coach Clapp walked out of the school behind me.

"Mr. Whitlock, thanks for coming in," Clapp said, waiting for me to step aside before he clasped Jasper's hand in greeting.

"No problem." Jasper turned to me. "What time do you want me to pick you up?"

"Is seven okay?"

"Great. See you, then."

I said goodbye to both him and Coach Clapp before heading over to my car. I slid inside behind the wheel, typing out a quick text to Alice before I started the ignition.

_**I'm bringing a date. — B**_

My lips twitched into an amused smile when I imagined Alice's face when she read the text. She'd probably be pissed that I'd found a date on my own — but how many times had I ever gone out with them with a date of my own? Once she got over the shock, Alice was probably going to be squealing Rosalie's ear off.

I drove home and let Jake outside the back door to wander around the garden while I rooted through the cupboards in my kitchen looking for cooking ingredients. I decided that I'd make a cheesecake for Jasper, a step up from the cookies that I usually made him for walking Jake for me. It would keep my occupied for a few hours and I loved baking. Alice called it unofficial therapy. She'd dragged Rose and me to a cooking class in Port Angeles a few years ago and while both she and Rose had dropped out after the first year (Alice was using the class to get over her boyfriend while Rosalie was there for moral support), I had kept it on.

I don't know why I'd never tried cooking before that. Renée had never been one for cooking — her form of cooking was arranging every takeout menu under the sun by type and then in alphabetical order on the bulletin board above the phone. Esme, on the other hand, had been an enthusiastic cook but she hadn't had a lot of time to really get into it because her interior design business had started to take off.

Ever since I'd started taking classes, I'd been buying every cooking book that I could get my hands on and I was starting to get the hang of it. At least, I wasn't burning anything anymore.

And everyone loved my cookies. I'd stolen the recipe from Esme and though I still referred to them as hers, I'd been adding to it as I grew more confident with experimenting.

I grabbed my apron from the back of the kitchen door and knotted it behind my back before I settled into a familiar rhythm, relaxing entirely when the exercise began to work its magic…

**~*~Edward~*~**

Emmett and I were doing laps of the swimming pool in the basement of the Volturi training center when a woman in the standard yellow and black Handler uniform stepped through the glass paneled elevator doors, a towel draped over her shoulder.

Her brow knitted together in a frown when she realized that the pool was already in use but Emmett, his eyes raking over her body suggestively, climbed immediately out of the pool, rivulets of water cascading down his back.

I could barely make her out from my position under the water so I kicked off the floor, breaking the surface of the water with a quiet gasp. I raked my hair back from my face, blinking rapidly as water dripped from my eyelashes.

My eyes swept over her, taking in her dark hair and the slight tan to her skin. I frowned, something nagging at the back of my mind, until she glanced in my direction and her dark, grey eyes met mine.

"Carmen?" I said.

"Hey there, Cullen," she grinned back, her teeth flashing under the fluorescent lighting. Emmett groaned, muttering something about Cullen groupies under his breath, but I ignored him as I swam over to the ladder.

When I climbed out, Carmen passed me a towel, her eyes raking over my body with ill-disguised appreciation. Considering the line of work that she was in, I was surprised that she was even affected by the appearance of other men's bodies, but then, I shouldn't have been surprised. Carmen hadn't exactly been celibate at training camp.

"How long's it been?" she asked conversationally. Her hair was still long and curled into cute, fat ringlets that framed her face and highlighted her cheekbones. Even through her Handler uniform — black cargo pants and a black t-shirt with a yellow, diagonal stripe from her left shoulder to her right hip — I could see that her body had matured some, and she was — well, she was a _knockout_.

"Three and a half years?" I said. "God, I haven't seen you since we split from our mentor."

Emmett cleared his throat indiscreetly, his eyes narrowing warningly at me over Carmen's head.

"Uh, Carmen, this is my partner, Emmett McCarty. Emmett, this is Carmen, Marcus's daughter," I said, making the introductions. Emmett's eyes widened at the mention of Marcus and I wondered if he was reconsidering any intention he had at seducing her now that he knew her father had the power to fire him — or have him killed.

"Wow, I thought the fact that you two were on a first name basis with my Dad was a rumor," Carmen murmured, her eyes speculative as she glanced between Emmett and I. "You boys really have risen, haven't you?"

Emmett's chest puffed out with pride, his mouth spreading into a grin. "Well, I don't mean to brag but —"

"Trust me, he means to brag," I said, rolling my eyes. "So, what are you doing here? I mean, working as a _Handler_?"

Carmen shrugged. "I needed some downtime, I guess. Dad was here so I'm staying with him for awhile. I'm working with some interesting boys at the moment, I can tell you, but I'd kill for some female company right now. They're hard to come by. Although, Dad was saying they have seven girls in the first year class in Volterra. It's a record."

"Don't suppose you've been talking to Alice, have you?" I asked dryly. Unlike Emmett, I'd known Carmen since before the Volturi. We'd dated in high school for awhile and we'd been friends for longer than that — Esme had even invited her on our family's annual trip to Esme's cabin in Denali, Alaska. She had been the one to get me an application form to join the Volturi shortly after I started my first year of college and decided that I hated it. I was accepted the following April. She and Alice had always gotten along.

"Not recently," Carmen admitted. "We AIM sometimes, but I haven't had time to meet up with her since I arrived in Seattle." Her lips tilted into a half-smile. "Speaking of, we should get together sometime. Catch up. Are you staying at home?"

"Actually, I'm staying with Bella."

The stiffening of Carmen's shoulders was almost imperceptible, but I still caught it. "Well, you have my number." She stepped closer, her citrusy scent invading my nose as she wound one arm around my neck in a hug. I hugged her back, surprised, and I knew that it wasn't just my imagination when she intentionally shifted her hips against mine.

And I knew that if I wanted, I could ring her up this evening, we could get a room at a motel and go at it like fucking rabbits… but I didn't want.

Emmett and most of the boys we trained with were convinced that I was a womanizer, fucking every woman who happened across my path when we went out in whatever fucking city we were in. Because I had "rules". I never slept with a subject, I never slept with a co-worker, I never fucked on the job…

Truth was, I never _fucked_.

I tried.

Oh, man, I fucking tried.

Even at training camp, Carmen and I had snuck away from our mentor's faction warehouse after hours. It was the first time that I'd even gotten aroused after Bella and I were done but I couldn't go through with it. I broke down like a fucking baby and starting crying all over Carmen's hair.

I put up a front so that there wouldn't be rumors that I was queer — there'd been rumors in the beginning, because I was a "pretty boy" as Emmett and James put it. The attention I was getting from stronger, confirmed members of the gay community had spurred me on to create a false image of myself because I was so used to lying to people and I couldn't admit that I was married.

And if my bosses had found out that I was married, I would have been kicked out faster than a whore in a convent. Or at least, I wouldn't have been made one of the elite. Bella was leverage against me that I couldn't afford and keeping her a secret had been the best idea from the start.

"See you." I smiled, my face only slightly stiff, and followed Emmett out into the elevator. The machine seemed to crawl upwards, toward the men's changing room, and I felt Emmett's envious stare on the back of my head.

"So who's the broad?" he demanded.

"My high school girlfriend," I said quietly.

Emmett slung his arm around my shoulder. "The infamous first?" He cocked his brow. "Like, the one that taught you everything you know? I can still remember mine, back in 1997…"

"Infamous second," I said, my lips quirking into an amused smile as I imagined Emmett as an unruly fourteen-year-old trying to get laid. Even before the muscles and the washboard abs, Emmett had definitely been a looker.

"I don't know how you can still remember." Emmett laughed boisterously.

It was kind of difficult not to, considering I'd only ever slept with three people.

I washed the chlorine off my body in the communal shower room and changed into a pair of black sweats and a grey t-shirt. When I got outside, the sun was blisteringly hot and I squinted against the glare of the car windows. When I climbed into the Aston Martin, I flicked the radio station to something soothing, and started the ignition.

Once I got out of Seattle, I let loose a little bit and pressed my foot down on the accelerator. The resulting rush was beautiful. It was like holding a gun in your hands, knowing that you were completely in control, but there was still adrenaline in your bloodstream.

It was exhilarating.

I arrived back at Bella's just before five, parking the car neatly beside Bella's Volvo. I could hear Jake barking excitedly from the back garden and he got progressively louder when I didn't open the gate to free him. I jogged up onto the porch, pulling out the key that I'd swiped from the flower pot earlier that morning. I let myself into the house quietly, tilting my head curiously when I heard the sound of Donna Lewis's voice filtering down the hall from the kitchen, followed by the loud, tone-deaf sound of Bella's.

Amusement surged through me and I walked down the hall, opening the kitchen door with a quiet click. I almost wished I hadn't a second later when I took in the sight of Bella, her hair tied back into a loose, messy ponytail and an apron wrapped around her small waist. She was singing while she washed various cooking utensils and there were little blobs of cream on her pale face that she was unaware of and I —

I wanted to lick them off.

_Now._

I could feel junior hardening at an alarming rate in my pants and it took all of my willpower not to pounce on her — _literally._ My fingers dug into the doorframe and I winced, scraping a hand over my face. What the fuck was _wrong_ with me?

It was the fucking apron.

I'd seen it hanging on the back of the back door earlier that morning and I'd thought it was funny — it was one of those cute things with the words "No Money, No Honey" written on the front — but the way it accentuated the curve of her chest combined with the v-shape of her white t-shirt just served to highlight the fact that Bella…

Bella was sexy now.

_Sexier_, I mentally corrected myself. She'd always been sexy to me.

_Mine_.

I wanted to bang my head against the door when _that_ thought popped into my head. She _wasn't_ mine and I was going to have to stop thinking like that if we were ever going to sit down and talk. Like _really_ talk.

But when would either of us be ready for that? To rehash the past, we had to talk about the present and how did I go about explaining to her that her estranged father had hired us to take care of someone who was using her as bait to draw her father out of hiding? This job wasn't straightforward. I had to be extremely careful about what I did or what I said because it wasn't _just_ a job — Bella's life hung in the balance and Charlie Swan was right about one thing.

I'd rather die than hurt her deliberately.

I cleared my throat loudly, announcing my presence, and Bella yelped, whirling around with a wooden spoon held up in front of her threateningly. Her brown eyes were wide, but as soon as she realized it was me, she lowered the spoon, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Jesus Christ!" she cursed, scowling at me. "You scared the hell out of me!"

I snickered, raking my hand through my hair as I ventured into the kitchen, trying to ignore the party going on below my waistband. "A wooden spoon? _Seriously_?"

Before I realized what she was doing, she reached forward and slapped me on the forearm with the weapon, her lips pursed in irritation as I laughed at her. Her eyes flashed with annoyance, glittering faintly as they lit up with the emotion, and my laughter quieted as I held her gaze.

Bella was the first to break the eye contact, her throat working as she turned back to the water, methodically cleaning the weighing scales. Her shoulders were stiff, her posture dramatically different to how it had been before I'd startled her.

Sighing, I placed my hands either side of my waist, on the countertop, and hoisted myself up onto the cool marble. Bella barely glanced at me, though I saw the flash of irritation in her eyes as I invaded her space. This felt familiar, comfortable. I'd invaded her space a lot before, deliberately making her uncomfortable. I'd spend hours riling her just to see the flash of life in her eyes. It distracted me from the hollowness lurking in the background, hovering like a dark cloud on the horizon.

"I was talking to Alice earlier. She wants to know if you'll come out with us tonight?" Bella asked, her eyes flicking briefly in my direction as she grabbed another item.

"To what? Dinner?"

"No, a club," Bella said stiltedly. I got the feeling that she didn't want me there, which made me smile.

"Why not? I've got nothing better to do." I shrugged.

"She wants you to bring your friend," Bella added.

I snickered. "Yeah, I bet she does." I resisted the urge to reach out a brush a loose strand of her hair back from her face as I said casually, "Wanna go as my date?"

The plate in Bella's hand slipped from her fingers, splashing suds all over her apron and her arms. She exhaled sharply, steeling her shoulders before she turned to face me. There was a brief flare of panic in her eyes, which confused me, until she said, "Actually, I have a date."

"Who?" I demanded, before I could stop myself.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Why does it matter?"

I scowled at her. "I'm just looking out for you."

"Well, _stop_!" Bella whirled around, dripping water and suds all down the front of her apron again, but she didn't notice. Her eyes were narrowed with barely contained anger — a whole decade's worth. It was fucking glorious. "Stop fucking looking out for me! I can damn well take care of myself. I've been doing it for six years, Edward! Just because you're fucking _here_ doesn't give you the right to —"

I reached forward, pinching her lips shut with my fingers. She tried to rip my hand away irately, but I caught her wrist easily, my reflexes sharper, quicker than hers. I held her wrist loosely, staring at her warningly. I tried not to convey the incredulity that surged through me — I'd never once heard her swear like that. It was kind of sexy.

"Old habits die hard?" I suggested innocently, shrugging. How was she supposed to know that she had a raving lunatic out to kill her and take down one of America's Most Wanted criminals in the process?

Bella jerked away from me and I let her go, a little disappointed. "Keep pulling stunts like that and you're out of here," she said, her voice steady. "I _mean_ it."

"You kick me out and you don't get what _you_ want," I said smugly. It was a cheap shot, but I couldn't resist dangling the divorce card in front of her. The thought of her spending tonight with another man wasn't doing much for my insides. She'd be lucky if I didn't deck the motherfucker when he came to pick her up.

"You _bastard_." She slammed the plate she'd been washing down on the countertop and took a step backwards, scraping her hands over her face as if she was trying to control her temper or something. Then I saw her eyes and I realized that she was fighting the impulse to cry, which made me feel like a complete tool.

But she held it together, her eyes like ice when she stepped away from the sink.

"Bella —"

"Don't say it!" she shouted, color flushing her cheeks as she turned to face me. The familiarity of the whole situation — the fighting, the expression in her eyes — was like experiencing déjà vu only much, _much_ stronger. "Don't you _dare_ apologize!"

It was similar to the reaction I had when staring down the barrel of a gun, only it wasn't adrenaline pulsing through my veins, causing the rush of exhilaration and excitement. It was pure, unadulterated want.

I slid off the countertop but she knew exactly what was coming. We'd danced this fucking dance too many times before for her not to recognize the intent in my eyes when I stalked forward — and she did the one thing I'd thought she'd never do.

She didn't slap me.

She didn't wait for me to clear the distance between us and do what I knew we both wanted me to do.

She didn't meet me halfway.

She just whirled around and slammed the kitchen door shut behind her, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the suddenly silent kitchen as she strode down the hall.

Shock held me still. _She walked away_. I think that was the moment when I realized that Bella had changed in more ways than I could comprehend — for the worse.

And it was my fault.

**~*~Bella~*~**

I wanted to hit something. No, scratch that — I wanted to _pulverize_ something. I stormed upstairs, ripping open the door to my bedroom and wishing like hell that Jake was lying on the rug, waiting to calm me down. I slammed the door shut behind me and stared at it for a long time, my breathing labored, but when I couldn't decide whether to fall against it or start kicking, a tear slipped past my rigid control and slid silently down my face.

_Oh, God_.

I _knew_ that he had said those things to get a rise out of me, like he'd _always_ done, but I wasn't able to cope with the familiarity. He turned his back on that.

_He_ left _me._

I might have told him not to come back but he still opened the door, stepped over the threshold and slammed it shut behind him.

He didn't _want_ me. He shouldn't have been staring at me like that, his dark, green eyes conveying promises that I couldn't take from him. I _couldn't_ let him break through my barriers so easily like that because when they came down, I'd have nothing left — and I couldn't hurt like that again.

It would kill me.

I stripped off my apron, my fingers trembling as I untied the knot, and I pulled off the rest of my clothes, stepping into the bathroom. I flicked on the shower and glanced at the mirror, wincing when I realized there were blobs of cream all over my face. I could have done with a bath but I made do with a long shower.

I flicked through the few outfits I had for night like these in my closet, settling on a blood red, dress that fell mid-thigh and had a plunging back. It definitely wasn't something that I'd normally wear — it had been a present from Rosalie for Christmas — but it wasn't like I could just go shopping for something this late. I had a funny feeling that Alice had done this to me on purpose.

I applied my make-up the way Rosalie had taught me to, piling on the eyeliner and mascara and coloring my lips a shiny, glossy red to match my dress. At some point, Edward must have let Jake in because he got the door open and wandered inside, plopping down on the rug at the end of my bed.

"What do you think?" I asked him.

He whined quietly, his ears flat.

"Oh, what do you know?" I scowled at him as I fitted the straps on my Jimmy Choos. God bless Rosalie for lessons in wearing high heels because I didn't trip once on my way to the door, which was saying something because I was the clumsiest person on the planet.

Edward was in the shower when I made my way downstairs and I breathed in a silent sigh of relief that I didn't have to face him immediately after our argument. When I stepped into the kitchen, I blinked in surprise when I realized that he'd finished up the washing up and had put away all the items on the draining board.

The smell of cheesecake permeated the air.

Jake, who had followed me downstairs, slunk under the table and I realized that he must be mad at me for leaving him outside while I was cooking. I shook my head at him, laughing quietly under my breath.

I opened the door to the oven, tugging on a pair of oven mitts before I pulled the cake out, setting it down on the countertop to cool. Jake's ears perked up, his eyes riveted on the baking tin.

"I got something else for you, Jakey," I said as I opened the cupboard, taking one of his favorite dog food cans out. When I had his dinner ready, I was immediately forgiven when I shoved the bowl under the table and he bumped his head reassuringly against the back of my hand.

At twenty-to-seven, I heard Edward's footsteps on the stairs and I exhaled quietly, busying myself with moving the cheesecake onto a plate.

"You're still mad." I glanced behind me, noticing that Edward had stopped in the doorframe and was leaning against the doorjamb, his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied my face. My breath caught; his hair was still damp from the shower and in a tousled mess from the towel. He was wearing dark jeans and a black leather jacket with the collar popped, a sliver of his pale throat visible before his pewter shirt began.

"I'm not mad," I rebutted. I dragged my eyes away from his tall frame, ignoring the nauseated fluttering in my stomach. I set the cheesecake down in the center of the countertop, away from Jake's reach, and sighed as a weak sense of accomplishment flooded my system.

"Is that cheesecake?" When I looked around, Edward was craning his neck, trying to get a look at the cake.

"Yes," I said curtly. "And it's not for you, so back off."

"Not even a tiny piece?" There was a teasing glint in his eyes, behind the challenge in his voice. It gave me a sick sense of satisfaction, the idea of telling him that I'd made the cheesecake for another man. I hadn't thought that I was petty enough to seek revenge on Edward but _damn_, just thinking about his reaction threatened to improve my mood. Because if Edward thought he could take on Jasper, he had another thing coming.

"Nope." I smiled smugly and I knew that my reaction had confused Edward because his eyes narrowed slightly. Suddenly, Jake vaulted from his hiding place under the table, his paws sliding over the timber floors in his haste to get to the front door. His barks were deafening and his tail was swishing happily as he waited, impatiently, for me to follow him and open the front door.

When the doorbell rang, Edward turned swiftly and reached the front door before I had a chance to even move. I groaned inwardly, slapping my forehead.

Edward opened the front door and I followed him down the hallway, an apology hovering on my lips as Jasper appeared on the doorstep.

Edward's shoulders stiffened and I watched, close to hysterical laughter, as Jasper and Edward eyed each other warily, both of them looking like they were poised for a fight.

"Edward, Jasper. Jasper, Edward," I said dumbly.

"_You're_ her date?" Edward's hand actually curled into a fist and I felt a flash of panic as I envisioned him slamming it into Jasper's face. But the panic swiftly melted into fear as my brain recalled Jasper's previous career in the army and I was pretty sure that Jasper would total Edward before Edward had a chance to —

"Are you ready to go?" Jasper completely ignored Edward, though his eyes were fixed on Edward's face. Jake inched forward, between Edward and I, and nudged Jasper's palm with his head in greeting. "Hey, there," Jasper murmured as he rubbed Jake's nose.

"Yeah." I grabbed my light, black coat from the coat stand and slipped my arms through the sleeves. I tucked my purse into my coat pocket and turned to Edward before I left. "Don't touch the cake; it's Jasper's. And before you leave, put Jake outside." I hesitated. "Please," I added.

Edward nodded curtly, scowling at Jasper, and I exhaled loudly, smiling nervously at Jasper as I walked past Edward, out onto the porch. Edward didn't shut the front door until I was sitting in the passenger seat of Jasper's car, fitting my seatbelt. Jasper climbed in the driver side and I noticed for the first time what he was wearing. His long, lean legs were clad in dark blue jeans and he was wearing a long-sleeved white and blue striped shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. His wiry blond hair refused to be tamed.

"You look real pretty," he grinned as he turned on the ignition. "I would have said it before, but your roommate looked like he might deck me if I opened my mouth."

"You could take him," I said confidently. "And thank you. You don't look too bad yourself, Whitlock."

"Just so we're clear." Jasper turned to face me, his expression intense as he stared at me. His attention made me feel a little uncomfortable and I swallowed, wondering if he was going to kiss me. "You mentioned something about cake?" Amusement flickered in his eyes, like he'd known exactly what was running through my head.

I snorted, relaxing into the seat. "It's cheesecake, your favorite. Since I owe you and all."

Jasper shook his head, putting the car in gear. "Oh, you know me so well, Swan."

I smiled in agreement as Jasper pulled out of the drive.

_Little did I know._

**A/N:  
Please please please review. The numbers of reviews per chapter decreased significantly last chapter but I know it was Christmas, so I'm not REALLY upset or anything... Just, you know, lonely :( xxxxxx**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:  
Hey!!! I'll never ever ever get tired of reading your reviews so THANK YOU!!!! I love you...  
Fragile Human, you are the best, but of course you knew that... :L**

**Anywayz - on with the show!!**

**~*~Edward~*~**

_She had a date_.

I realized that I was staring at the doorway that she had just vacated, caught up in whatever fucking emo wallowing I was doing, until it _really_ fucking dawned on me that she. had. a. date.

With a _man_.

Growling softly under my breath, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Emmett's number as I let Jake into the kitchen and started for the stairs. If there was any doubt that I was thinking about not going tonight, it was gone now.

"Wazzup?" Emmett's voice filtered through the speaker.

"Fuck your plans. You're coming out with me," I said.

"Not with that attitude, I'm not," Emmett retorted. If he wasn't several pounds heavier than me and a trained professional, I would have killed him by now.

"Club. Drink. Pussy. Savvy?"

"Keep talking," he responded eagerly.

I jogged up the stairs. "I'll text you the details. I have to talk to Alice first. I have a funny feeling if I ask Bella where we're going, she'll give me the wrong address."

Emmett snickered. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Bella's under the impression that I have a hit out against her dates," I said tersely.

"Don't you?" The amusement in Emmett's voice as so strong it was almost tangible. I suppose after witnessing (and mocking) Emmett getting his panties in a twist over a woman as many times as I have, Emmett presumed he was entitled to a little payback.

I rolled my eyes. "Did you scan those names I gave you?"

"Way to change the subject and yes, for your information, I _did_." Emmett sounded extremely pleased with himself. "And by the way, that Rosalie one's a character. She was arrested in college for physically assaulting her professor and later lodged a sexual harassment complaint against him. Not that I blame him for wanting to tap that shit —she's a fucking knockout! It's too bad she's taken. She's dating a cop — the Chief of Police in Port Angeles, to be exact. A Mr. Royce King _junior_."

"Anything on him?" I asked, ignoring the hint of adoration in Emmett's voice as he ran through the information he'd compiled under Rosalie Hale's name.

"Squeaky clean. A model citizen." Emmett sounded bored. "Maybe a few drunken skirmishes when he was in high school, but that's it. Anyway — that other dude you said? Seth Clearwater? He's living in La Push. He's currently single and one of three owners of a new Las Vegas themed casino on the reservation. Looks like he could do with cutting his hair, but most La Push kids do. Anyway, he runs the place with some guys called Sam Uley and Quil Ateara."

"And his record?"

"Two parking tickets." Emmett snickered. "Unless you mean his dating record? Because Ms. Isabella Swan's name might have come up —"

"What's your point?" I said stonily.

"I'm just sayin'." He was fucking smirking at me, I could tell. "It's not that hard to cause a minor glitch on the company computers and get his name filed on a hit list…"

"Ha ha. That's just fucking hilarious, Emmett," I growled. "You're not the one who'd be fucking butt raped in prison."

"That is so fucked up, but completely true," Emmett said cheerfully. "You'd totally be relying on me to like, make you my bitch or something. Just to save you from being butt raped by a whacked out psychopath."

"If I ever hear you call me your bitch again, I'll castrate you," I promised.

"With what? You know they only have plastic knives in prison," Emmett pointed out.

"My teeth."

I heard Emmett hiss and I would have bet my entire fortune that he was cupping himself protectively. "That was uncalled for, my brother. I know that your violent threats are in good humor, but that was just too far. So far that the line was there, and you were like, you know, _there_, away from it, and now you're just — fuck, Edward, you're so far over the line, you can't even see the line. The line is just fucking gone."

"Are you… Emmett, are you _crying_?"

"No, I'm not fucking crying!" Emmett squeaked. "Man, I think they heard you…"

"Your balls?" I was really questioning Emmett's sanity now. "Dude, I have to go. Like, now."

I hung up before Emmett could reply, a little worried about him. I sent a text to Alice asking for directions before grabbing fresh clothes and heading into the bathroom to get ready.

When I climbed out of the shower and threw on my clothes, I pulled out the sports bag I'd stored under the bed and dropped it on the duvet, unzipping it quickly. Even if there was no-one stalking Bella since I'd shot the redhead, it made me feel almost content to know that in about two seconds flat, I could have the barrel of a loaded gun pressed against the temple of Bella's date if he even _thought_ something inappropriate about her.

He was so fucking lucky that I wasn't trigger happy. I was a professional. I _could_ control myself.

When I walked back downstairs, I almost had a heart attack. Well, fuck no, there wasn't enough blood anywhere near that region for high blood pressure to be any kind of problem because it had all rushed to my dick.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

I nearly collapsed against the doorjamb for support when I saw her, my jaw going slack. She was wearing a blood red dress with _no_ back on it. Every inch of smooth, ivory skin was exposed, beautiful and unblemished and just screaming for me to —

My fingers twitched.

Her motherfucking legs went on forever, accentuated by stylish heels. My mind whirled, remembering vividly what those legs felt like wrapped tightly around my waist, how they could bend like elastic thanks to the yoga classes that she'd taken with Esme and Alice on weekends. Why the fuck did I have to wear jeans? It was so fucking obvious that I was pitching a tent.

Then, through the haze of lust and vivid images, I realized that her shoulders were tense.

"You're still mad." My voice sounded lower than normal, barely concealing the fact that I was so hot for her, it was difficult to think straight. And I hadn't even seen her face yet. She glanced around, kohl-lined eyes widening slightly as they raked over my body. There was a subtle shift in her eyes, like a flicker of uncertainty, but then it was gone, extinguished like a candle in a thunderstorm. I admired her control, however grudgingly.

Unwittingly, my eyes flicked down to her lips, narrowing slightly as I focused on how plump the gloss made them look, how soft they'd be against mine.

"I'm not mad," she rebutted carefully as she lifted whatever she was cooking onto the countertop. The smell and the sight made my mouth water for a whole different reason and, glad of the distraction, I craned my neck to get a look at the tempting masterpiece she had waiting.

"Is that cheesecake?" Man, I wished I'd been home sooner to watch her actually bake it.

"Yes," Bella answered curtly. "And it's not for you, so back off."

"Not even a tiny piece?" I challenged, but I wasn't really thinking about her cheesecake as I said it. I was thinking about her in that dress, how the v-neck might have been modest but it still highlighted the curve of her breasts — and how it was all for another man.

"Nope," she smiled smugly. At first I thought she knew exactly where my thoughts had gone but then I realized that she was still talking about the cake and I knew that I couldn't let someone else have her. Not tonight. Not _any_ fucking night, if I could help it — but particularly not like this.

Not because I was feeling extremely possessive, or protective — or for any other purely selfish reason.

But because if some dude was going to want her, he should want her for _her_, not because she looked particularly fuckable in that sinful red dress.

Suddenly, Jake vaulted from his hiding place under the table, his paws sliding over the timber floors in his haste to scramble past me and get to the front door. I was already following him before his barks became deafening and the doorbell rang.

Bella's date was here.

I opened the door, eager to issue a warning to the man daring enough to stand on her front door, but then I saw who it was and my body stiffened.

Jasper motherfucking Whitlock.

He stared back at me, his blue eyes silently challenging me to say something. I got the feeling he knew exactly how much I wanted to snap my fist back and slam it into his face but I remained firmly in control of the impulse and tried to remember that we were on the same team. That I'd probably be having the same reaction if Emmett was the one on the doorstep, in the same position, even though he and Emmett were probably the most qualified to keep her safe.

But I couldn't make myself believe it. Something told me that if it _had_ been Emmett, I'd be able to handle it a lot more than I could with Jasper. It might have helped that I've known Emmett for a long time and could trust him with my life… but something made me not want to trust Jasper.

And I didn't. Not one single, tiny bit.

"Edward, Jasper. Jasper, Edward," Bella said.

"_You're_ her date?" He'd had the fucking nerve to ask _me_ what my history with her was when he — what _was_ he to her? Dark, poisonous jealousy suddenly snaked through my system, closing like a fist around my stomach. How long had they been dating? I knew I shouldn't have trusted Carlisle or Esme or even Alice's word on whether Bella was single — we'd been fucking married and they never fucking knew! What the fuck did they know?

"Are you ready to go?" Jasper completely ignored me and I wanted to kill him. It was irrational, but I felt some possessive need to have Jasper at least _attempt_ something close to asking my permission to take her out. But he just fucking ignored me. Like I was _nothing_.

I was her goddamn husband for fuck's sake!

"Hey there," Jasper murmured as he rubbed Jake's nose. The motherfucking _dog_ took precedence over me!

"Yeah." Bella, oblivious to the anger starting to take root in my head, grabbed her coat from the coat stand, slipping her arms quickly through the sleeves and hiding the smooth expanse of her back from view. It was a small relief. She tucked her purse into her coat pocket and turned to me, like she'd forgotten to tell me something. "Don't touch the cake, it's Jasper's. And before you leave, put Jake outside."

I was tempted to eat the whole motherfucking cake just to spite them, but then she said the word "please" and I knew that I'd probably crawl on my hands and knees over a bed over nails before I did something like that. I had to be more sly about staking my claim on her, so that she remained oblivious.

And therefore unhurt.

But I had my limits to how much I could take and as I watched her leave, climbing into that motherfucker's car, a plan started to take root in my head. I closed the door, pulling out my cell phone. Alice had text me the directions of the club, _Eclipse_, and I recognized the area of Seattle. I hit erase before scrolling through my phonebook and hitting the call button.

She answered on the first ring. "I knew you'd call sometime."

"What is up with people and lack of greetings these days?" I muttered, raking a hand through my hair as I glanced around Bella's hallway awkwardly. I felt like I was doing something sneaky.

"The intent was there." She laughed softly. "You want to meet up or what?"

"I'm heading to _Eclipse_ in Seattle. I'll meet you outside the Stafford Junction mall in an hour?"

"See you, then."

I hit the "end call" button.

"Come on, Jake." The Saint Bernard followed me down the hallway to the kitchen, his tail swishing lazily as I opened the back door. As soon as I had the door open, he darted past me and headed straight for the small shed at the bottom of the garden with a dog flap on the door.

I locked the back door behind him, ignoring the temptation to take a tiny piece of the cheesecake on the countertop, and headed back down the hall to the front door. I locked up tight, making a mental note to get in touch with a few guys I knew in Seattle who worked with the Volturi in the technology department. Bella needed a proper security system installed.

With a final sigh, I turned and headed for the Aston Martin, resigning myself to a night I could only describe as absolute hell.

And then some.

**~*~Bella~*~**

"I know it's none of my business but…" Jasper trailed off awkwardly, his eyes on the road as he drove. I glanced at him, my brow knotting in a frown as I tried to figure out what he was alluding to.

"Um, Edward, was it…?"

Comprehension dawned and I turned to stare out the window of the car, my chest fluttering nervously. Letting Edward think that I was going on an actual date with another man didn't elicit the satisfaction I'd been anticipating. I just felt… guilty. Not because I felt that I was cheating on Edward, because we'd been over for a long time, but because this felt like lying to him. Nothing was going to happen between Jasper and I. I'd known for a long time that since Jasper had "retired" from the military, he'd come back slightly paranoid and unable to trust anyone enough to really have a relationship with them. And me… until I sorted my shit out, it wasn't fair to lead anyone on. I was still waiting to find someone who could ever measure up to even half of what Edward had been to me and the fact that I was even making comparisons didn't exactly proclaim "ready to date". Fuck the person who said that you should wait a certain amount of time after a break-up to start dating. At the rate I was going, I'd never be ready.

"He's staying with me for a couple of months because my Aunt Kate is coming to stay with Carlisle and Esme before the wedding — and my mother, presumably. There's no room for him with them, so I offered," I explained tonelessly.

"That's not what I meant," Jasper said, his tone almost conversational, but I picked up on the undertones of interest.

Jasper and I considered ourselves friends. We met at various community functions, we talked, he offered to walk my dog and I offered to pick up his orders at Newton's and cook him meals sometimes. But we'd never talked about our personal lives. Not really, at least. I knew that he'd been in the military, his parents were dead and he lived alone in a house he inherited from his godparents. He knew that I was raised by my aunt and that my cousin, Alice, was my best friend but neither of us had felt compelled to discuss our lives at length.

But even knowing so little about me, I got the impression that Jasper saw more than a lot of people saw. Did he see the black hole I frequently saw in my eyes when I looked in the mirror?

"I don't know, I just thought that he seemed kind of — possessive?" Jasper sounded apologetic.

"He's just protective of me," I responded, immediately defensive of Edward. "He's looking out for me."

Jasper's responding silence was doubtful.

I studied the passing scenery with unnecessary fervor. I didn't like Jasper's questions because he made me feel guilty for hiding things, like I was aiding and abetting a criminal or something. Somewhere along the line I'd stopped feeling like Edward and I were on one side of the fence while everyone else was on the other. I was stuck in the middle, unable to fit in on either side.

"Bella…" Jasper winced. "Um, Mike Newton was at the school today to oversee the installation of new gym equipment. He and Clapp were talking about the Aston Martin parked in your driveway and… its owner."

I scowled. "Let me guess: Mike's _concerned_."

"I did say you could look after yourself," Jasper said. "But Mike wants to talk to you at work on Monday. He fears for your reputation."

"What is this? The sixties? I can bloody well have sex with whoever I want," I said angrily.

"So you're sleeping with him?" Jasper cocked a brow at me.

"No!" I exclaimed, color blooming on my cheeks. "No," I repeated, quietly this time. "That's not what I meant. I'm just sick of people like Mike Newton making comments on my love life like they have any right —"

"They're just looking out for you." Jasper shrugged.

I laughed humorlessly. "Right. This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Mike made a pass at me a week after he offered me a job, right?"

Jasper whistled. "Really? I didn't think that fucker had it in him."

"Ha!" I smirked. "I _knew_ you didn't like him and that that _'they're just looking out for you'_ line was bullshit."

Jasper snickered under his breath. "Yeah, I guess I don't like him."

"Thanks for warning me, Jasper," I sighed. "I should have known that in a town this small, gossip would be a problem."

"It's no bother, Bella." Jasper shrugged nonchalantly, flashing me a small smile.

I nodded, my eyes flicking back toward the window. Asking Jasper out suddenly didn't feel like the best idea in the world. It felt stupid and petty, trying to get back at Edward because he hadn't acquiesced to my wishes on the spot and granted me the divorce I hadn't even been aware I needed. Because even if you stripped away our marriage, our relationship and six years of separation, he was still my _family_.

I needed to shove all the bad shit to the back of my mind and find some stable ground between Edward and I, for both our sakes.

Even if it made getting over him that much harder.

**A/N:  
Please review!!!**

**And, if you have the time, I found this brilliant little fic, The Weight of Words by georgeygirl. I have no idea why she has so few reviews. I fell in love with her characters instantly and I strongly recommend that you read it. I usually don't advertise other people's fics, but this one is totally worth it :D The link is on my favorites list:D**

**Thank you!!!!! How many of you have broken your new years resolutions alreadY? I know I have! :P**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:  
Hey!!! I know it has been bugging you how short the chapters are, so this is... long :P  
Fragile Human, you are the best, but of course you knew that... :L**

**~*~Jasper~*~**

It didn't take a genius to figure out that both Cullen and Swan locked up tight like Fort Knox whenever someone mentioned either of them — but the question was _why_? I glanced at Swan, frowning when I noticed that she was still staring resolutely out the window, like she would have rather been anywhere but here, all because of a few pointed questions.

From the very beginning, this investigation had been beyond fucking weird. My supervisor had slapped the manila folder down on the table in front of me with a "don't ask" look and told me that this was a high profile case, though God knew why. European Pop Princess, Tanya Denali, had a deranged stalker trying to kill her on several occasions and her case hadn't been given this much attention. No, Miss Isabella Swan, a kind, if a tad boring girl, was being treated like the president.

In many cases, the name of our employer was kept secret, but I was _dying_ to discover who had hired the Volturi to protect Swan. Apart from an amateur stalker, her life didn't seem in _that_ much danger. And the fact that Cullen and McCarty had been especially been chosen didn't add up either — their work with Denali had been a step down on their part. Everyone had heard the stories about the pair of them — how they'd ended up stranded in Egypt with the daughter of an oil baron with a deadly terrorist group on their heels, and they'd _still_ managed to escape unscathed, if only by sheer, dumb luck.

Why the hell would two of the best agents in the field be guarding a girl like Swan? Apart from the FBI warranted investigation of seven homicides in Seattle about eighteen years ago, where the transgressor, a corrupt cop named Charles Gosling, escaped before he could be caught, there hadn't been any other noteworthy criminal activity that went above and beyond the usual — so why this? The facts just didn't add up.

And then there was the two of them — Cullen and Swan — and they were lying through their teeth about not being involved with each other in any other capacity than a sibling/cousin relationship. The thing was, nobody else seemed to realize it. Their relationship seemed to be the norm, the awkwardness, the underlying tension. So how long had they been involved? And in exactly _what_ capacity?

I'd gotten a friend of mine in the bureau to start an extensive investigation but until I got the results, I was in the dark.

And if there was one thing that I hated, it was being in the dark.

The whole set-up was suspicious and I'd suffered a whole lot of paranoia since my return from Iraq — I knew it was messing with my head; hell, my _therapist_ knew it was messing with my head — but this whole job was just making it worse. It was like one continuous migraine and it was killing me.

When we arrived at _Eclipse_, Swan had the car door open before I could act the gentleman and open it for her. Obviously, she was used to doing things for herself. She started toward the extensive queue but I caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She tensed when I touched her, but I ignored her reaction.

"Where are you going? The entrance is that way," I said, gesturing toward the tall, burly bouncer standing at the door. I recognized him, of course — the Volturi masqueraded as a security firm and their low-level employees often earned their keep as bouncers and bodyguards at nightclubs and other venues like theatres and outdoor festivals across the globe. Getting into this club was going to be a breeze.

"The queue is _that_ way," Swan countered, pointing toward the end of the line, which snaked around the side of the building.

I rolled my eyes, directing her toward the door. As predicted, the bouncer let us pass without hesitation. I could sense Swan's confusion but I didn't bother explaining.

The club felt extremely familiar even though I'd never once been inside the building. A few of my guys had gotten inside during the day and taken photographs, as well as installing their own well-placed cameras. I had no idea what to expect when it came to this case so it helped to be over prepared — if something went down tonight, I was going to see it all. Cullen and McCarty had no idea, of course. I had the sneaking suspicion that they already knew more than I did and until they shared whatever it was, I wasn't going to be very forthcoming with the details of my own investigation.

The music pounded like a second heartbeat; techno music I'd never heard before and wasn't sure I even liked. Pulsing strobe lights flickered sporadically over a room of writhing bodies and fog from the dry ice. The décor was slick; black and red leather sofas, floor-length, strategically placed mirrors that made the place seem so much bigger than it actually was, and a hi-tech DJ station.

I scanned the area once but our arrival hadn't attracted more attention than normal. It didn't make me complacent, but I allowed myself to relax infinitesimally.

"Bella!" My head swung in the direction of a tall, stunning blond as she hurried toward us in a dark green, strapless mini-dress and black leather boots that accentuated the length of her perfect legs and the complexion of her skin. _Rosalie Hale, _I recognized. So, _so_ much prettier in person.

"Hey, bitch," Rosalie greeted Swan, dragging her into a tight hug as she shot an appreciative glance in my direction. I heard her whisper, "Nice arm candy you got there."

Swan laughed awkwardly, hugging her friend back just as tightly. "We're just friends. I like the dress — it's very you."

"And I _love_ yours." She pulled away from Swan, perusing her outfit with a critical eye. She turned to me then, two tiny, attractive dimples appearing on her cheeks as she flashed me a bright, disarming smile. "I'm Rosalie Hale."

"Jasper Whitlock," I replied, taking her hand and brushing my lips over her knuckles. Her skin smelled like jasmine; everything about this woman screamed _siren_. It was difficult _not_ to be attracted to her.

Rosalie's smile widened and she mouthed "keeper", not so subtly, at Swan. Swan rolled her eyes, faint color appearing on her cheeks, and a rush of annoyance flooded my system. Swan was attractive — in a homely, girl-next-door kind of way — and when we'd first met, I'd considered fucking her, but she'd never once acted like she'd been attracted to me, at least, not like other girls seemed to be. And now she seemed _embarrassed_ at the prospect of having me as a potential partner?

"Alice has saved a table for us back here. Royce is on his way as we speak," Rosalie told Swan as she guided us around the edge of the dance floor. She glanced at me. "Royce is my boyfriend. He's the Chief of Police in Port Angeles." Her voice was heavy with pride.

Rosalie showed us to a booth occupied by one other person and as soon as my eyes fell on her, my entire body stiffened as the most peculiar feeling slithered down my spine, like freezing ice and intense heat fused together, chasing each other through my veins. It sounded fucked up and corny in my head, but it was like my eyes were suddenly _open_.

_Finally_.

She was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen, all small and graceful in a white, swirling dress that hugged her petite figure to perfection. Her eyes were shockingly like Swan's, but there was a lighter, more vibrant quality to them, and they glowed from the inside, like her porcelain skin and her softly pouting mouth. How on earth had I overlooked her photograph when I'd flipped through her file? I felt like I knew everything about her and yet I knew nothing.

I can't even describe what was coursing through my brain or my body — it was surreal, this loss of control that for the first time I didn't resent. I _reveled_ in it.

Her eyes were wide as she stood abruptly, looking for all the world like an angel with her raven-colored hair and serene smile. Wordlessly, she extended her hand toward me, like she was in some sort of a trance, and I took her tiny hand in mine, overwhelmed by the urge to _protect_ her. She was so small, so perfect. I lifted her hand to my lips, inhaling the smell of wildflowers, and kissed her skin softly.

"Alice," she croaked. She shook her head, like she was trying to ward off dizziness. "M-my name, I mean. It's Alice."

"Jasper."

There was something about this girl because for the first time in my life, I felt like I was coming home.

**~*~Bella~*~**

I had no idea what had just happened and by the incredulous look on Rosalie's face, I doubted she did either. The stare that Jasper had fixed Alice with was enough to drive me insane with jealousy and an abrupt surge of sadness simply because I'd seen that exact stare once before… and then I _did_ know what had just happened.

_Coup de foudre_. It was love at first sight — and not the corny, overused type.

The genuine, ridiculously fucking rare type.

I remembered the night of my mother's wedding to Phil Dwyer, shortly after my twelfth birthday, when Esme had found me under a table, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees as I cried. She had climbed under the table with me, completely unconcerned about wrinkling or dirtying her beautiful bridesmaid gown, and asked me what was wrong. I told her that Phil had gotten me a book for my birthday about how a boy who had discovered the formula for immortality. Every century or so, he fell in love repeatedly with the same girl whenever she was reborn and he was never once tempted to fall in love with another girl after he found her, because she was his soul mate and every subsequent love would never have been enough. But what if my dad had been Renée's soul mate and she would never be happy with Phil? Instead of laughing at me for putting so much stock in a work of fiction, Esme told me what Nana Platt had told _her_ daughters when they were young.

_"Your soul mate could be your best friend, Bella. They could understand you better than anybody else and love you more than anybody else but that doesn't mean that you can't love someone else just as much and never feel like you've missed out on anything. Nothing is ever written in stone — some people go their whole lives without ever meeting that one, perfect person for them and they live happy, fulfilled lives. Even if Charlie _**is**_ Renée's soul mate, it doesn't mean that she can't be completely happy with Phil. He's not second best, Bella."_

Phil definitely wasn't second best — my mother was happier now with him than she'd ever been. As I'd grown older, my belief in soul mates had been severely shaken, but as I watched the interaction between Jasper and Alice, I think I believed that they had a profound connection if nothing else. And I recognized it, because eleven years ago, in the brightly colored _Rainbow Club_ room of Seattle Grace hospital, it had happened to me.

Had it been love at first sight for Edward and I?

No, I didn't think that at all. At thirteen, I'd had my head buried in books about teenage angst, true love and prince charming, but I hadn't made the connection between my close, intense friendship with Edward and my feelings toward boys in general for a long time. Edward had just been… my rock. He was there, anticipating my feelings, my thoughts, my actions, like I was there for him and we supported each other through the _Rainbow Club_, our issues with our parentage and just… our problems in general. He had been two years older than me, already (somewhat) sexually active, and much more self-reliant than I had been, but our relationship had never been anything but innocent in the beginning.

He was simply my best friend.

Rosalie's eyes flicked in my direction, sympathy creasing her features. I rolled my eyes to prove how ungirlfriendy my friendship with Jasper was, but that nagging jealousy remained. A sliver of that connection I'd had with Edward was still there, but both of us were intentionally blocking it out. I knew that I couldn't have him. I knew that sex and love had ruined our relationship and that our friendship had collapsed because of it — was still hurting it — and I longed, so badly, for us to be able to go back to when things were simple. Because, like I'd said before, even if you stripped away our marriage, our relationship and all that other shit, Edward was my family.

Alice shook her head suddenly, like she was trying to dislodge the daze Jasper obviously had her in. "Bella! Hi, um, Bella. Wow, this is your date —" She looked so _guilty_, it almost broke my heart.

I pulled Alice into a tight hug. "Jasper's my _friend_," I whispered, putting emphasis on the word friend.

Alice made a soft, squeaky sound under her breath as she clutched me tighter. "What the fuck was that?"

_The most beautiful feeling you'll ever have, _I thought sadly.

"Hell if I know," I lied, laughing softly under my breath. I let go of her, grabbing Rosalie's hand. "Wanna dance?"

I wanted to give Alice and Jasper the chance to get to know each other and realize what I had already realized — they were perfect for each other. I'd never been more glad to have brought Jasper as my date in my entire life.

Rosalie grinned, allowing me to tug her away from Jasper and Alice. When we were far enough away from them, Rosalie showed no signs of stopping and forced me to follow her onto the floor, ignoring the suggestive whistles and blatant stares that she attracted as she walked.

I jerked on her arm. "I can't dance, Rose," I hissed.

"Relax," she commanded. "When you're stiff like that, you dance like a spaz." Sometimes I think Rosalie was a drill sergeant in another life. She completely bypassed my protests and pulled me into a small clearing on the dance floor just as a new song started up, pounding through the speakers. "And I've taught you how to dance, remember?"

I caved because it was extremely difficult to win an argument against Rosalie when she had that determined glint in her eye.

For the first few seconds, I tried to absorb the beat of the music and move my hips in time, but the crush of bodies around me was putting me off and I shot Rosalie a pleading glance. She rolled her eyes, clasping my hand and twirling me around. When I had my back to her front, she brushed my hair back from my ear and whispered, "Close your eyes and follow my lead."

It was a lot easier after that. I really started to enjoy myself, laughing when a guy tried to squeeze in behind Rosalie and grab her hips, only to have a stiletto heel shoved into his shin. Rosalie had been taking anger management for a few months and her therapist was relatively pleased with her progress — of course, she had no idea that Rosalie's anger had nothing to do with road rage or something along those lines. No, Rosalie only had a problem with horny men who thought they could touch what obviously wasn't theirs.

When the song ended, Rosalie and I headed for the bar.

"So…" I started as Rosalie leaned over the bar, waiting to catch the cute bartender's attention. "How are you and Royce these days?"

Rosalie glanced at me, rolling her eyes. "The sex is great, Bella. Thanks for asking."

"That's not —"

"What? Are we moving in together? Buying a puppy? Exchanging promise rings?" Rosalie smirked at me. "Sweetie, you know I'm not going to settle down until I'm at _least_ thirty."

"I know." I shrugged, feeling a little out of my depth. Rosalie and I could bond on every subject except men. Rosalie was the kind of girl that wanted to experience men while I… I had the mindset of a girl who wanted to settle down and have a family but actually wanting it was a different matter. Maybe I'd envisioned myself in that situation with Edward before everything blew up in my face, but I doubted that even at seventeen _that_ was what I wanted.

What I'd wanted was Edward. _Forever_.

"So…" Rosalie's lips quirked up into an amused smile. "What's it like being the only virgin over twenty in the state of Washington?"

I scowled at her. "I am _not_ a virgin."

"Toys don't count." Rosalie arched her brow doubtfully.

"I'm _not_. I've had sex — with a living, breathing man." I narrowed my eyes, ignoring the astonished glances my little rant drew.

"_Man?_ As in _singular_?" Rosalie snorted. "Sweetie, you might as well be a virgin. Let me guess: prom night?"

My cheeks colored, though not for the reason Rosalie presumed. I glared at her, my mouth pursed shut firmly, and she eventually rolled her eyes, crooked her finger at the bartender and ordered our drinks.

Prom hadn't exactly been… _fun_ for me. At prom itself, I'd been a clumsy, awkward wreck while my date, Seth Clearwater, tried to show me a good time before we all headed down to La Push for a night of alcohol and debauchery.

Well, that had been the plan. What had really gone down was two years of trying to make Edward see me as something other than his asexual best friend culminating in Edward, three of his college buddies _and_ his on-off high school/college girlfriend Carmen Moretti crashing the party, and then Edward and Seth almost killing each other when Edward threatened to shove him over the edge of one of the looming cliffs and Seth, taking this as an invitation to see who could get who over first, responded with a vicious fist fight.

Suffice to say, I hadn't lost my virginity that night.

Rosalie passed me a martini and beckoned for me to follow her back across the dance floor. When we arrived back at our table, Alice was chatting animatedly to Jasper, her hands flying as she described something and he was watching with rapt attention, completely engrossed in what she was saying. Royce was sitting on the opposite sofa, his arm draped lazily over the back of the seat as he talked to another man that I'd never seen before. He was dressed in a vibrant green shirt and dark purple pants and there were several silver rings wrapped around each finger on his left hand. He looked like a flamboyantly dressed Lil' Wayne.

"Hey, baby," Rosalie grinned as Royce stood, planting a kiss on her upturned mouth. I swear there was a collective sigh of disappointment when people realized that the two most attractive people in the club were obviously taken. With slick, artfully styled black hair and a million dollar smile, Royce probably could have been a model.

"Hi, Bella," Royce said, kissing me on the cheek in greeting as Rosalie plopped down on the sofa beside the second man, winking at him.

"Hey, Royce," I responded, smiling quickly at him as I sat down beside Jasper. Jasper turned to look at me, his brow quirked.

"You okay?"

"Yep," I smiled, my eyes flitting in Alice's direction. "And you're not getting the cheesecake, after all. In fact — _you_ owe _me_, got it?"

Jasper laughed loudly. "I am forever in your debt."

Alice beamed at me behind his back.

"Oh, Bella." Rosalie smacked her head, like she'd forgotten something important. "This is Laurent, our Data Analyzer and most esteemed Fairy Godmother. Not to mention one hell of a friend." Rosalie gestured to the man beside her.

"Hey," I smiled tentatively, offering my hand. He shook it eagerly, his smile wide as he looked me over, though not in a sexual way. I had a feeling that he was gay, anyway.

"Well aren't you a treat," he observed. "Honey, with those legs, I'm surprised you're still single. You should come down to _Twilight_, I'd be happy to take you on. You'd be my fastest profile yet."

"Um, thanks," I said, blushing. "But like I've told Alice and Rosalie a million times, I'd rather find my own dates."

"Well, if you change your mind…" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at me, finally letting go of my hand, and I nodded my head.

"You'll be the first to know," I promised.

"Where's Edward?" Rosalie asked suddenly.

Jasper's teeth snapped together audibly and I almost snorted at his reaction. Jasper and Edward didn't like each other at _all_.

"He texted me two minutes ago to say he's on his way in. He says he knows the bouncer," Alice explained.

"From where? _Muscle Camp?_" Rosalie muttered.

"Ha! You think Edward's muscles are impressive? Look at the guy he just walked in with!" Alice exclaimed, her eyes going round with awe. All of us turned to stare at the entrance of the club as Edward strode through the door, his arm slung over the shoulders of a tall brunette in a blue halter dress, his lips tilted in a lazy, half-smile. There was another man standing behind him, slightly taller and built a _lot_ sturdier than Edward, but I barely glanced at him before my eyes flicked back to Edward and his… date.

My stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot and I tilted my head back, downing the contents of my glass in one gulp. I had absolutely no right to feel so… _jealous_ and I forced myself to swallow the feeling and get my emotions under control before he arrived at our table.

This was potentially a good thing. A step forward in my Getting Over Edward plan. And if painfully sitting through a night of watching Edward date another girl was what I needed to finally spur my brain and my heart into action, then they could have my blessing. I would — eventually — be happy for them.

_What a load of fucking bullshit_, _Bella_.

I sighed, forcing myself to look away. Royce was glaring a little at Rosalie as she stared, enraptured, at the muscles on Edward's friend. Jasper and Alice weren't paying attention to Edward's arrival; they'd retreated back into whatever conversation they'd been having before. But Laurent… Laurent was staring at me like he'd just figured out how to solve the alchemic equation of immortality.

Feeling self-conscious, I looked away and tried to focus on what Rosalie was saying.

"Royce, baby, go down and get them, will you?" She practically pushed him off the sofa and as he started down the steps to Edward and his friends, Rosalie grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the sofa beside her.

"He's _gorgeous_, Bella. You _have_ to get in there," she muttered gleefully, nudging my arm suggestively.

"Get in — where?" My brows furrowed. Had she noticed me staring at Edward?

"With Edward's friend." Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Dayum, that boy is fiiiiine."

"Yeah, I think even Royce noticed your thoughts on Edward's friend," I said.

Rosalie shot me an obvious look. "Maybe Royce needs a little competition. He's getting complacent, taking me for granted and shit."

"No offense, darling, but you're definitely with the wrong man," Laurent interjected, his eyes riveted on the approaching trio.

"_I_ think that Rose isn't that shallow," I countered.

Rosalie snorted in disbelief. "Bella, this is _me_ we're talking about. Of _course_ I'm that shallow."

Royce returned to the table, sitting down next to me at the table. Rosalie ruffled his hair playfully over my head, offering him a half-smile before her eyes flicked over to Edward.

"Hey, Gorgeous," she greeted.

Edward responded but I wasn't really listening because his date was staring at me and with a sudden jolt of recognition, I realized who she was. She'd gotten a lot prettier, her skin now a rich tan color and her face was like a chic European model's. She smiled faintly at me, shifting under Edward's arm, and I forced myself to smile politely back at her.

_Carmen Moretti?!_

"Carmen!" Alice squealed. "Wow! I haven't seen you in _ages_!"

"Hey, Alice," she laughed, her voice husky and just fucking perfect as she accepted Alice's hug.

"This is Rosalie," Alice introduced Rosalie as Jasper left to get Alice a drink, "and Laurent, our favorite employee, and you know Bella, of course…"

Carmen shook Rosalie's hand and I wasn't the only one aware that they both eyed each other warily, the way Rosalie eyed women who came on to Royce. "Hi," they both said at the same time. Laurent shook Carmen's hand, making some comment about it being a pity that she'd already snapped up Edward because she would have been a valuable client, but I wasn't listening because Royce had moved to follow Jasper to the bar and Edward's muscular friend slid into the booth next to me.

"Hey," he said cheerfully, his cheeks dimpling when he smiled, and despite the fact that he looked like the most formidable man I'd ever seen, I felt completely at ease because he was just so darn _cute_ when he smiled like that. He had adorable brown curls and friendly eyes that belied his rough physique and I knew instinctively that I would like him. He pulled me into a hug, taking me off guard, and squeezed me tightly. "I feel like I know you already," he murmured in my ear. "I'm Emmett, by the way. Emmett McCarty."

"Bella," I responded, smiling despite myself. "I'm sorry, but I don't know —"

"I know." Emmett rolled his eyes. "Edward's an ass with no manners."

I laughed, the knot in my stomach easing a small bit. I decided that tonight wouldn't be too bad if I could focus on anything other than her. "So you guys are friends?"

"We're more like brothers," Emmett said simply. "I've got his back, he's got mine. Partners in crime."

It was such a simple description but I could tell that Emmett really meant it and I was overwhelmingly glad that Edward had someone like Emmett he could confide in, that he could trust implicitly the way he'd once trusted me. Instead of saying this or putting any of my thoughts into words, I leaned over and hugged Emmett as tightly as I could, hoping that he understood even half of what I was trying to say.

He didn't even stiffen at the sudden contact. He just hugged me back without any need for an explanation, and I _knew_ he understood.

"Thanks," I whispered.

He chuckled, the sound a loud rumble that seemed to come from deep in his chest. "Don't sweat it, kid."

When we pulled apart, I felt Edward's stare prickling at my skin but I refused to look at him. It was irrational, but I felt kind of… angry… that he'd decided to move on with _her_. But then, I should have expected it to happen. It was just another stupid game that we were playing like we'd done so many times before. I tried to annoy him by going on a date with another man and he attempted to best me by going on a date — with someone I detested more than anyone else in the world.

Well played, Cullen. _You win_.

"So, Carmen, I'm sure you know all about _Twilight_ from Alice," Rosalie said conversationally, though there was a hint of smugness in her voice. Not many women were as successful as Rosalie and Alice were at the age of twenty-four. Hell, they were treated like celebrities in Seattle when they went out — they never had to queue to get into clubs, they got into every VIP room in existence and they never had to book weeks in advance to get into _La Bella Italia, _an upscale Italian restaurant located close to the water."What have _you_ been up to since high school?"

When Carmen smiled, I imagined a thousand angels sighed longingly in heaven because she was so beautiful. I felt like a Yeti in comparison. She smiled serenely at Rosalie, settling into the booth next to Alice, in Jasper's spot. "I've been working for Volturi Security & Investigation, the U.S. division for about six years," she said. "We mostly deal in bouncers, security for high-profile events and that kind of thing, you know?"

I stiffened. That was the firm Edward worked for, the European division. The fact that they worked on two separate continents appeased me slightly, but it didn't take away the bitter feeling in my stomach. It just served to remind me that Edward had walked away from me and into _her_ arms, six years ago.

"Interesting." Rosalie actually _did_ look interested, though. She was all for women taking jobs that men normally applied for and I could see she was starting to develop a grudging respect for Carmen.

"Of course, Carmen's in the soft sector," Emmett piped up, shooting Carmen a teasing look. "She doesn't get out into the field as often as she lets on. The boss has her on a desk job seventy per cent of the time."

Carmen shot him a withering look, but she was amused. Rosalie's respect slipped a notch and I smiled, despite myself.

"So, do _you_ get out often?" Rosalie asked Emmett. She was definitely interested in him, I could see, but she wasn't flirting. Her interest was genuine and I wondered if she had seriously meant what she'd said earlier — that _I_ should date him. It would certainly explain why she wasn't flirting with him, even if it was just to annoy Royce.

"A desk job would kill me," Emmett admitted. "I was set to become a professional athlete before I got a more exciting offer from the company. What about you, sweetheart? Living for the excitement?"

I didn't take a genius to realize that Emmett had just made a fatal mistake. Rosalie had only three major rules:

1. Don't touch her.  
2. Don't offer to do anything she's fully capable of doing herself and —  
3. Don't EVER attempt to call her anything other than her given name unless she gives you permission.

"Uh oh," I muttered under my breath, both Alice and I wincing as Rosalie stiffened.

"Excuse me?" she said calmly, her voice deceptively quiet.

Emmett looked confused. "I meant, what do you do for a living —?"

"You called me _sweetheart_." Rosalie looked as though she was about to blow a fuse. Before Emmett could say anything else, I jumped up.

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_," I said firmly. "Rosalie, for God's sake, calm _down_." I glared at my friend. "How the hell was he supposed to know not to call you —"

She ignored me, her eyes riveted on Emmett.

"Trust me, Bel, he knew," Edward said, his voice heavy with amusement. I glanced over at him — he'd moved to lean indolently against the railing, his back to the dance floor on the floor below, and he had his arms folded loosely over his chest.

Before I could ask what the fuck he meant, Emmett chuckled. "Finally. I was beginning to wonder if you even _had_ a switch to flip."

"_Switch to flip_?!" Rosalie looked like she was about to murder him.

"Frankly, I had no fucking idea how your boyfriend has put up with your shit — you hitting on other guys and whatnot — but I've figured it out," Emmett said smugly.

"Figured _what_ out, asshole?"

"You're one of those girls who _has_ to be in control, so you pick the guy who bends to your will with the slightest pressure and you flirt with other girls when he finally surrenders to try and spice up the game you've already won and can't get any more fun out of," Emmett said proudly. "You're not being _challenged_ anymore."

Rosalie looked stunned for a few seconds but she recovered swiftly, shooting Emmett a withering look. "You don't know any damn thing about me."

"I know a lot more than you think, sweetheart," Emmett grinned. "When you get bored with your toy boy, come find me if you want a _real_ challenge."

He turned and stalked off towards the bar, stopping once when a cute redhead put her hand on his arm. They talked for a few moments and I saw them exchange numbers, before continued in the direction of the bar.

"Ugh." Rosalie wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Who the fuck does he think he is? And that slut was all over him —"

I was abruptly amused. Rosalie had finally met her match.

"I stand by my first judgment," Laurent said, his tone all-knowing. "You are _so_ with the wrong guy…"

"What about you, Bella?" My head whipped in Carmen's direction, my amusement dying as abruptly as it rose. I stared at her, slightly confused. My stomach twisted acidly, but I made a conscious attempt to keep my expression blank.

"What about me?" I asked, puzzled.

"Are you and Seth Clearwater still together? You two were so cute when you were —"

_Seth Clearwater? _I must have looked flummoxed because Alice burst out laughing.

I glanced at Edward, my eyes narrowing slightly when I realized he had snickered, though he was trying to hide his laughter when he noticed I was looking in his direction.

_"Seth's not man enough for you, Bella. He ran away with his tail tucked between his legs at the first sign of danger. What a wimp."_

"No," I said, as calmly as I could, but I knew my voice sounded clipped. "I haven't seen Seth in years."

"You should look him up." Carmen's expression was deceptively innocent. "Personally, I'm glad I reconnected with my high school boyfriend." Carmen glanced at Edward and I knew I didn't imagine the smug glint in her eye when she smiled warmly at him. I didn't like how _possessive_ her gaze was and it took all my energy not to launch myself at her.

Why _her_? Out of all the women in Seattle, why did Edward have to pick _her_? He _knew_ how I felt about her. I could never, ever forget that _she_ was the one he ran to, the one he confided in, the only one who knew that there'd ever been an "us".

"Excuse me." I felt sick. I stood and walked in the direction of the toilets, trying to get my stomach under control. Thankfully, the bathroom was mostly empty when I burst in. I locked myself into one of the stalls, shoved the lid down on the seat and sat down, my head between my knees.

"I'm such an idiot," I said aloud. I wished that I hadn't started this stupid game but I couldn't resent bringing Jasper here, because now he and Alice had met, I suspected that he might be able to find peace, at last, after his time in Iraq. I knew that the war had affected him deeply and he deserved to be happy. And Alice — Alice deserved to fall in love and have the big family that she'd wanted since she was a little girl.

_Why_ did we have to do this? The games, the secrecy? _Why_ had we started this shit in the first place? I remembered vividly the very first day at the _Rainbow Club_, when Dr. Gerandy had paired us up to be Rainbow Friends. I was glad I wasn't the only kid who thought the exercise sucked — Edward and I had been the oldest kids in the program, since the others had all been under ten, which was why we'd been paired up together instead of with someone of the same gender — and we bonded over our mutual hatred of the _Rainbow Club_. It had been really easy — every Monday afternoon when Esme dropped me off at the clinic, Edward would ask me if I'd had any dreams about my dad again or if I'd called my mother and I would tell him that Renée called every second day to make sure that I was okay and happy and that the dreams with my dad in them had stopped a long time ago. He'd ask me about school and Alice, just to have something to put in his Rainbow Journal, then he would roll his eyes and talk about really interesting shit, like music and books and films. Then, on Friday afternoons, Esme would drop me off at the clinic with _my_ Rainbow Journal where I would ask Edward if _he_ had any nightmares about his mother, how school was going… there were no games involved. We simply told each other everything, we never kept secrets and what went on between us was kept private, like Dr. Gerandy told us to keep it. I never told Esme that Edward cried whenever he dreamed about the night his mother died and he never told Carlisle that sometimes I was glad my dad had left us — because then, I wouldn't have had a sister in Alice.

Our friendship had brought Carlisle and Esme together. Edward promised that he'd show me how to play basketball and when Alice found out, she wanted to play too. I was eager to introduce her to Edward, so Esme told me to invite him and his father over for dinner. While Edward taught Alice and I out in the garden, Esme and Carlisle slowly fell in love over her infamous plate of quiche Lorraine.

I could pinpoint exactly when things had changed for us, when the secrecy between us had taken on a more devious, sneaky feel. Alice had discovered my crush on Peter Adams when I was fifteen and she tried to get us together but her scheme backfired when he fell for _her_ instead. Of course, I confided in Edward — and he ended up being my first kiss. He said it wasn't a pity kiss or something like that — actually, his exact words were, "You wouldn't have wanted to kiss this Peter guy anyway. His mouth looks like a vacuum cleaner. You might as well kiss someone who knows what he's doing."

We'd been sitting in his tree house, sans our Rainbow Journals, just talking like we usually did at night when everyone else was in bed. When Carlisle and Esme had moved in together, Edward had insisted that we meet in his tree house rather than our own rooms because it felt more like _ours_, rather than something belonging more to one of us than the other. When he'd suggested himself as my first kissing partner, my mouth had fallen open, because I'd never once considered him as, you know, a _boy_. Then, before I could object, he'd leaned over, brushed my hair back from my face and pressed his lips gently against mine. My eyes had fluttered shut of their own accord, and then it was like a thin, frail wall of glass had shattered between us and suddenly I _felt_ things, things I _shouldn't_ have felt…

That kiss had been a secret neither of us felt comfortable discussing. He had a girlfriend — _Carmen_ — and he didn't feel _that_ way about me, and I only told him once that sometimes, when he touched me, I felt the urge to kiss him. Like I said, there'd never been secrets between us. And he made the feelings feel completely normal, because sometimes I wanted to kiss other boys too. Never in the same way, though, and I doubted Edward fully realized that.

But things that happened after that — when we'd both indulge in underage drinking, went to parties we weren't allowed to attend, snuck out of the house after curfew — they all remained a secret between us, proof that we could tell each other everything and never have to worry that we'd turn each other in to our parents. The fact that our friendship had begun with the explicit instruction to never, ever tell another person what we wrote in our Rainbow Journals had affected our entire relationship from the beginning right up until now.

And it was only now that I was realizing how messed up that really was.

I sighed, attempting to get my thoughts under control, and finally stood up. When I flicked open the lock on the door and pulled the door open, I stopped short. Carmen was standing in front of the mirror, retouching her already perfect make-up.

She met my gaze through the mirror and smiled serenely.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi." My voice sounded blank, toneless.

I turned on the faucet.

"Look, Bella." Carmen sighed, snapping the lid of her blusher shut. "I'll be frank with you. I know that Edward is staying with you but if you care about him at all, you'll leave him alone."

"Excuse me?" I cocked my brow at her, anger bubbling to the surface.

"Don't act coy," Carmen scowled. "Edward doesn't need someone like you in his life, destroying him from the inside. He was lucky to get away from you when he did."

"Where the _hell_ do you get off —"

Carmen started to laugh humorlessly. "Oh my God. Seriously, just _grow up_, Bella! You seem to be forgetting that _I'm_ the one who witnessed how he fell apart after you —"

"After I what?" I demanded coldly. "Exactly _what_ did I do, Carmen?"

She faltered, her cheeks paling slightly as I took the wind out of her sails. "You — You know exactly what you did."

"Humor me."

"Stop being a bitch," Carmen snapped. "I'm just looking out for Edward."

_She didn't know_. She came marching in here, on her high horse, thinking that she knew everything when she didn't know _anything_. I don't know why it mattered so much, but a rush of overwhelming relief flooded my system. She didn't know that Edward had married me.

She _also_ didn't seem aware of the fact that Edward had walked out on _me_, not the other way around, but it was none of her business.

But still — Edward _hadn't_ broken that link that had been forged back on the first day of _Rainbow Club_. She might have known that there had been _something_ between Edward and I (which, if you'd looked hard enough, you probably could have guessed), but Edward had never told her to what extent we'd both gone to be together.

I actually _smiled_, however weakly. "Thanks." And then I turned and got out of there before I didn't something really weird, like hug her. She stared after me, stunned.

**~*~Edward~*~**

"So, you're in security, huh?"

I nodded once at Royce, my eyes sweeping carefully over the dance floor. We were both leaning on the railing of the balcony that overlooked the floor of the club. Once Emmett had approached Jasper and Royce at the bar, Royce had gotten out of there as soon as he could, recognizing that Emmett was very much a threat, to his relationship if anything else. I wasn't drinking because I was driving but Royce was going through his scotch like there was no tomorrow. "Yeah. A private company."

"Cool. The Volturi, right?"

I nodded again. My eyes tracked Emmett's movements as he shoved through the crowd, away from the bar. He was constantly stopped by horny women. Royce was watching him too, but his lips were pursed in distaste. His patience was starting to wear thin.

My concentration was blown to shit and I was trying to regroup by scanning the dance floor for potential threats but really, my mind was on the table behind me.

It hadn't escaped my notice that from the moment I walked inside, Jasper Whitlock's arm had been around Alice's shoulders.

_Not Bella's._

When Emmett had had his arms around her, almost immediately, I'd stiffened, but Bella didn't seem attracted to him, and I hated that I was a little relieved that she wasn't interested in my partner. The fact that he wanted Rosalie was icing on the cake.

I'd been anticipating her reaction to Carmen the entire way here but when she'd visibly paled, an overwhelming sense of guilt had flooded my system. Her date was obviously _not_ her date and even though it was kind of her own fault for insinuating that he was, the game felt uneven, like I'd won by a score that was too high to be considered fair. It felt like _cheating_.

And I was worried about her, because instead of playing the part of the jealous ex or even the part of the ex that was happy for me, she'd just retreated into herself and gotten lost somewhere in that pretty head of hers. And I felt like kicking myself for forgetting that she wasn't _that_ Bella anymore — the Bella that had played devious games like this with me, and held her own in the subsequent fight. I hazarded a guess that if I tormented her enough, got her riled up for a good fight, she'd back down and retreat as soon as I hit a weak spot. She'd been doing it all day. And fuck, it was _my_ fault.

I glanced behind me, stiffening suddenly when I realized that Carmen had disappeared. Had she gone after Bella?

_Shit!_

"So, Alice said you're the Chief of Police in Port Angeles?" I said in an attempt to distract myself from the massacre that might have been going on in the Ladies' room. Carmen had made her thoughts on Bella _very_ clear six years ago. I could only hope both of them had matured a little since then.

"Yep." Royce smiled proudly. "I just got promoted. I've been working my ass off for months just to be even _considered_ for the job."

"You're not boasting again, are you?" Both Royce and I turned to look at Jasper as he joined us at the railing, a friendly smile on his face. Royce took his comment good naturedly, laughing a little under his breath, but I glared at him, pissed.

"And how does it feel to be a retiree, Gramps?" Royce grinned.

"It feels pretty darn good at the moment," Jasper said, his eyes on Alice.

I really, _really_ wanted to hit the guy, but some rational part of my brain knew that Jasper could get me in a lot of fucking trouble with my job and my position as an Elite. Where the fuck did he get off? He didn't even have the decency to break off whatever the fuck he had going with Bella before he moved in on Alice — right in front of her face!

"She's my little sister," I said tersely, my voice low, like a warning. Jasper glanced at me, his expression startled, but it abruptly smoothed out.

"Oh…" He suddenly looked stiff and extremely awkward, like he didn't know how to act around people. "Look, I know that we… Shit, Bella's like your sister, isn't she? But she doesn't want to be, that's why — the awkwardness —" He looked like he was having an epiphany — an extremely incorrect one — but an epiphany nonetheless. "Oh, man, I'm such a fucking _idiot."_

I thoroughly agreed.

"Look, Bella and I are friends," he said. I stared at him, my lips twisted skeptically, but his expression was clear, guileless. I didn't pick up on any sneaky, deceptive undercurrents in his body language, like before. "Seriously, dude. We're _friends_. I wouldn't have just — if we were together, I wouldn't have just dropped her for Alice like that —"

"So you just expect me to be fine with it?" I cocked my brow at him. "I don't give a fucking shit what you thought about my relationship with Bella. If you so much as lay a finger on either of them, by the time I'm through with you, you'll wish you were dead. Savvy?"

Jasper glanced at Alice, his expression solemn. "Okay."

I was taken aback by his immediate acquiescence. _Something_ had happened and I had no fucking idea what, but it had been enough to wipe the smirk that had been hovering at the back of Jasper's smile completely off his face. He looked like he was seeing things for the first time, and it was _disturbing_. Did the dude have some sort of a Jekyll and Hyde personality complex going on? I wasn't sure that someone that mentally unbalanced should be around Alice —

I turned just as Bella strode out of the Ladies' Room six booths down, always in tune to her whereabouts whether I wanted to be or not. I raked my eyes over her form, ignoring the kick of lust that sliced through me at the sight of her in that dress. I searched for signs of distress, anything, in her demeanor, her face, her expression but the small smile on her lips was surprisingly… genuine.

What the fuck were Bella and Jasper _on_? At least with Bella I could blame it on hormones, but something wasn't _right_ tonight. She slid into the booth next to Rosalie, her smile widening slightly.

I willed her to look at me, to lift her eyes and just… look at me. Just so I could be sure that she was really, genuinely alright.

And then she did, always in tune to _me_.

Some things never changed.

Her eyes flicked over in my direction, resting on my face for a nanosecond, before they skittered away as Rosalie opened her mouth to speak.

But the nanosecond was enough.

Somehow, deep down, I just _knew_.

Bella was ready to play the game again.

**A/N:  
Please, please please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:  
I know, I know, it's been a freakin' age! I really, really hope this chapter is worth the wait, though :D  
Happy St. Patrick's Day to you all!!!!!!!!!!**

**If you don't already know, Fragile Human is the best!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **

* * *

**~*~****Bella~*~**

I blinked drowsily, the duvet bunched around my legs, and tried to figure out what had woken me. Jake was whining softly under his breath, his head cocked toward the door, and a faint trace of trepidation started to work its way into my system.

Something didn't feel right.

Jake's ears perked up and I slid silently out of bed, my ears straining to catch any noise.

_There_.

I froze as I heard the soft footfall in the hallway below.

_Edward?_ I shook my head silently. What would Edward be doing sneaking around the house? And even if he was, Jake knew he was there. He probably would have snuck out and joined him by now.

My heartbeat started to pick up.

"Good boy," I whispered, leaning down to ruffle Jake's head as I slipped past quietly, grabbing a hoodie from the end of my bed. I shoved my arms through the sleeves and pulled the garment over my head as noiselessly as I could manage. Jake followed me diligently to the door, a low, dangerous, growling sound rumbling in his chest.

"Ssh," I murmured, my heart hammering. My fingers shook as I held onto his collar. Jake wound himself protectively around my legs, making it difficult for me to walk, but I managed to slide the door open with little sound and sneak into the hallway.

The house was pitch dark. The skin on the back of my neck crawled with anxiety, like I was being watched, and adrenaline began to pump steadily through my blood. Jake's eyes gleamed in the darkness, flickering around the hallway as he continued to growl menacingly.

Edward's door was open slightly and a sliver of moonlight peeked out between the door and the doorframe. I concentrated on reaching it, dragging Jake slowly behind me. He was tugging on my hold, trying to get loose, but he wasn't trying extremely hard. I knew he sensed my fear and was torn between the urge to keep me safe and attack whoever was downstairs.

When I reached Edward's door, I sighed audibly with relief as Jake nudged the door open wider, waiting for me to slip inside before he followed.

I had barely three seconds to register that the moonlight was spilling over the unmade bed — and that the bed was very _empty_ — before my vision went black and I was shoved heavily against the wall, my head landing with a quiet thump against the mirror.

Fear and panic clogged my throat, drowning out my shocked gasp, and a jolt of pain shot through my skull. My breath froze, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

"Bella." My body almost collapsed with relief at the sound of his voice. He pressed closer and I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the feel of his rock hard abs against my front. The smell of his cologne and just _him_ surrounded me like a security blanket, affecting my brain to the point where I momentarily forgot about the potential intruder downstairs and my heart started to race for a very different reason.

I could barely make out his face; my eyes were level with his rough, stubbled chin and the pulse at his throat was racing as fast as mine, if not faster.

I could feel his warm breath on my hair, tickling the tip of my ear and infusing my body with warmth.

I struggled very hard to think of a reason not to close the tiny distance between us, to press my lips to his throat and let things escalate from there naturally, to entwine my body with his like we'd done so many times before… but the sound of Jake's harsh, menacing growl broke through my senses like a shower of ice.

"There's someone downstairs," I breathed.

"I know." Edward lifted his hand, brushing my hair back from my face before his fingers slid along my chin, igniting a slow, burning warmth. "I need you to listen to me very carefully."

I nodded, forcing myself to concentrate.

"Stay in here. Don't move, no matter _what_, okay?" Edward's voice was low, controlled, but I sensed the urgency in his words. "If you're scared, hide. Don't move until I come back."

"It's probably just a burglar, right?" I murmured, my brows drawing together. The urgency in his voice was starting to scare me more than the footsteps downstairs had.

"Right."

He sounded like he was lying. It was difficult to notice but I just… _knew_.

He was lying to me.

I opened my mouth to speak but then he was gone, his warmth disappearing like a puff of smoke and the cold seemed to press down on me, smothering me. He was deadly silent, slipping from the room like a ghost, and I sank to the floor, my ears trained to hear any sound.

I grabbed Jake's collar, pulling him closer to me, and though he was reluctant, he sat down on my legs, surrounding me with his body heat. I stroked his fur, more to keep my hands occupied than anything else, and listened intently for any sound.

It was quiet.

_Too_ _quiet._ Who would break into my house in the middle of the night? It wasn't like I owned anything valuable — I worked at _Newtons' _for fuck's sake! Most of my furniture had been obtained at a flea market!

Jake whined softly, his head burrowing into my lap. I realized I was as much his security blanket as he was mine.

Jake, I repeated furiously. _Not_ Edward.

My stomach twisted as my thoughts flickered back to seconds ago, the scent of his body under my nose and his warmth wrapped around me. My resistance was crumbling like flimsy tissue and I didn't like it — not one single, tiny bit. Even if it _had_ been her arms he ran into that night six years ago, she didn't know why, and though I didn't understand it… that made me feel at least a tiny bit better.

I might have been Edward's wife, but Carmen had been the girl he ran to instead of talking to _me_. I'd known everything about him; he'd never once lied to me until six months before… before that _night_.

Before he got that letter.

It had killed me that I never discovered the contents, never knew what drove him away from me so fiercely that he became a stranger.

But she didn't know. How could she? She had implied that I'd been destroying him from the inside, and I might have believed that part of that was true if it hadn't been for that damn letter.

The sudden blast of a gunshot paralyzed me.

Jake whimpered and shot up from my legs, racing toward the door before I could grab his collar.

_Edward!_ I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle my cry as I scrambled to my feet, completely ignoring his instruction to stay put. All I could think of was him lying on the floor in the kitchen, his eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling as blood seeped around him like a lake, my heartbeat hammering in time to the cruel voice in my head that said, _He's dead. He's dead. He's dead._

Jake flew down the stairs ahead of me, his nails skidding across the wooden floor in the hallway. He quickly regained his balance, bounding toward the kitchen door, a bark tearing from his throat.

I waited for a second gun shot, my heart thumping furiously against my ribcage, but all I could hear was the low growl coming from Jake's throat.

_Don't shoot my dog, _I begged silently. _Not Jake, too…_

I braced myself against the wall, knowing that what I was about to do was pretty fucking stupid, but if he was dead, then —

Despair squeezed my thoughts. After six years, I still wasn't any closer to moving on than I had been the day he walked out. Here I was, about to walk into a precarious, most-likely-deadly situation, and I didn't give a shit if I was about to die because if I was about to be shot, that meant _he_ was dead, too.

With a shuddering breath, I pushed the kitchen door open and stepped inside.

"For fuck's sake, Bella, do you ever _listen_?"

My knees almost collapsed with relief when I heard Edward's voice, though my veins ran cold as I took in the scene before me. The first thing I noticed, irrationally, was the bullet hole in my back door, just below the window.

The second was the redhead sitting at the kitchen table, her wrists bound to the leg of the table by a thick, black rope. There was a cut on her lip and blood was steadily oozing from the wound and as I watched, her tongue snaked out and swiped the blood away. Her cool, black eyes were focused unerringly on my face.

Shaken by the recognition that surged through me, I glanced at Edward, and the gun he held with practiced ease, its muzzle pointed at her head. His eyes were focused on her, his jaw locked in a controlled, emotionless expression, but his words were directed at me when he opened his mouth.

"Get out, Bella."

My veins were like ice.

He was holding a fucking _gun_!

Jake slunk around my legs, his black eyes on _her_. He continued to growl low in his throat, his teeth bared.

My lips thinned as she started to smile, her lips tilting into an amused smirk. "You've got your own live-in bodyguard now? That's… a development." Her catlike eyes were calculating; I wasn't stupid enough to miss how she attempted to sound nonchalant, but her mind was working furiously.

"Victoria," I breathed doubtfully.

Edward stiffened. "You know her?"

"Yes," I said quietly, my eyes on Victoria. "Her name's Victoria Clare. She's a police officer in Port Angeles. She was Royce's partner up until he got a promotion — Rosalie introduced us at a club before." She'd _seemed_ nice at the time — but what the hell was she doing breaking into my house?

Edward cursed under his breath and I jumped, unused to the harsh, bitter tone of his voice. Even when he was furiously angry with me to the point where he was probably considering wringing my neck, he'd never been as cold or as controlled as he was now. There was something… professional about his attitude.

Jake suddenly shot out of the kitchen, almost tripping me over in his haste. His tail began to swish rapidly, seconds before the doorbell rang. I froze, glancing at the clock.

It was almost four a.m.! Who the hell would be at the door _this_ hour?

"Get that," Edward ordered tonelessly. "It's Jasper and Emmett."

My brow creased in confusion and alarm, but I headed for the door anyway. My stomach was starting to twist nervously as I tried to piece together what the hell was going on, but I wasn't getting very far. What the hell would _Jasper_ be doing here?! Edward didn't even like him! Edward didn't even _know_ him!

Or did he?

Their introduction yesterday evening certainly hadn't contained the usual shaking of hands or acknowledgement; all I remembered was Edward saying, _"You're_ her date?" I'd chalked that up to Edward judging Jasper solely on his appearance but the fact that they knew — and hated — each other made their little, terse conversation much more meaningful.

And if it was true, then that meant that Edward was lying to me.

Again.

The tightening of my stomach was almost painful as I grabbed the door handle and pulled it open.

Like Edward had predicted, Jasper and Emmett were standing outside. Both of their vehicles were parked in the driveway — a monstrous looking jeep and a sleek looking Mercedes — though I had no idea how they'd managed to drive both of them up outside the house without me hearing a thing.

"Where are they?" Jasper said without preamble, his voice terse and impersonal.

I pointed wordlessly toward the kitchen and he started in that direction, pulling out a gun from beneath his jacket. My heart started to race at the sight of it, fear and confusion coiled like a tight spring in my chest. I wished like hell I had enough pieces of the puzzle to piece together even a modicum of understanding about this fucked up situation.

Emmett didn't follow Jasper. His adorable brown curls had been flattened by a black beanie and he was decked out in black, cargo pants and a black bomber jacket, looking more like a burglar than anything else. The smile he flashed me, however, was more reassuring than menacing and I felt my anxiety ease slightly.

"Rough night?" he asked as he stepped inside, closing the door over behind him.

"You could say that," I agreed, my voice shaking slightly. My arms were starting to feel cold and I was shivering a little beneath my hoodie. Emmett slung his arm over my shoulder and led me toward the kitchen.

Edward and Jasper ignored our entrance; Jasper was now holding the gun trained on Victoria while Edward fitted cuffs over her wrists, barely wincing as she fought to break his hold, hissing and spitting at him like a wild cat.

Emmett grabbed a mug from the cupboard, finding his way around my kitchen with ease. I followed him, feeling safer close to him while the other two secured Victoria. I could hear them murmuring to each other in low voices but I deliberately tuned them out. I wanted to know what the fuck was going on but I was going to wait for Edward to tell me himself.

I wanted him to stop lying to me.

I hated it. I hated it more than anything he'd ever done to anger me or hurt me. Lying was just… the worst. It meant he was shutting me out.

"Hot chocolate," Emmett said, pressing the mug into my hands. "It'll help with the shock. You should put something warmer on, too."

I nodded, lifting the mug to my lips. The hot liquid felt lovely in my mouth, chasing away the ice that was slowly starting to seep into my pores.

"I'll take her in." Jasper straightened finally, his voice slightly louder than it had been. Edward nodded curtly, his lips pursed tightly as he shoved Victoria out of the chair. She growled but didn't say anything when Jake growled back, snapping viciously at the air around her ankles.

"Good boy." Jasper chuckled, scratching behind Jake's ears before he grabbed Victoria, hauling her out into the hall. Emmett smiled at me, patting my back.

"You don't mind if I leave the truck in your driveway for a few hours? I'll be back to get it later."

I shook my head numbly. He squeezed my arm and followed Jasper outside, closing the door with a quiet click behind him.

The house was suddenly silent. Jake crept down the hallway and threw himself down on the carpet just inside the front door, a low whine escaping his throat.

The warmth of the drink in my hands began to fade, my skin turning to ice as I reviewed the last few minutes. Victoria had broken into my house. Edward had a gun. He apparently knew Jasper — and worked with him, if their efficiency at getting Victoria out of here was anything to go by.

I was missing so much information that I felt like I was trying to tread water in the middle of an ocean.

Tension unfurled like the threat of lightening on a stormy, summer evening, almost palpable in its thickness.

Edward slid the chair silently into place at the table and slid the magazine from his gun, setting the discarded weapon down on the surface of the table. The quiet click seemed unbearably loud in the excruciating silence.

"Edward —"

"You're so _stupid_, do you know that?" He rounded on me, his green eyes flashing. His shoulders were stiff, his expression controlled, but there was venom in his cool voice.

His words sent a surge of hurt through my system but I refused to cower away from him like a baby. "I thought you were dead!"

"So you charged down here like you couldn't get killed fast enough?!" Edward exclaimed. His control shattered as he strode forward, his hands clasping my shoulders as he shook me. He looked like he wanted to beat sense into me but I knew, instinctively, that he'd never lay a hand on me like that. No matter how angry he'd ever gotten with me, Edward would rather have hurt himself than hurt me. He shook me hard though, like he was trying to shake the will to live into me.

But his hands had an entirely different effect when heat blossomed under my cold, stiff limbs and I pushed forward, blindly seeking out the warmth and safety that he had always represented for me. The events of the night were starting to catch up with me and without really thinking about what I was doing, my hands were fisting on his black wife beater, my lips discovering the column of his throat.

I wanted to beat my fists against his chest and pull him to me all at the same time. I fucking _hated_ the distance and the invisible barrier thrown up between us, made of insecure thoughts, memories and the past. I wanted to cling to him and never let go and at the same time I wanted to push him away the way he had me and walk away entirely, to push him out of my life.

My heart and my mind were torn in two, very painful halves.

"That's _exactly_ what I was doing," I muttered honestly. I couldn't lie to him, not like this. Maybe he could, but it felt so unnatural and _wrong_ that I couldn't bring myself to even form the words in my head.

Edward's grip on my arms relaxed slightly and he exhaled very slowly, like he was fighting to control himself. The whole situation was very familiar and yet there was a new, foreign edge, an infusion of sexual tension that had never been there before, beneath everything. He was the same but he was so… different. His chest was rock hard beneath my head and I could feel the indents of his abs beneath my hands. His body had matured, strengthened, had become the complete opposite of mine. His smell was different, muskier, more masculine.

I couldn't think of an adequate reason why being here, so close to him, was a bad idea. I knew that I should be scared or at least wary, that I should step back and not be a fucking idiot, getting sucked under again without so much as a life raft to save me this time.

Edward was going to leave after the wedding.

He was going to hand over divorce papers and walk right back out of my life.

Gone, gone, _gone_.

God, this was _such_ a bad idea…

My stomach churned under the onslaught of indecision, sense warring with emotion.

Slowly, Edward's hands lifted, his fingers starting to push through my hair, the tips of his fingers sending little shockwaves through my skull. My eyes fluttered shut, my breath rushing past my lips in a silent gasp.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Edward muttered, his voice torn, conflicted.

"I know," I whispered. I felt the irrational urge to apologize but I bit my lip, finally working up the strength to pull away. I took a step backwards, trying to shake off the overwhelming instinct to burrow closer to him, but he didn't give me the choice to escape because when my eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, my mind turned to mush.

My hands trembled as I took another step backwards.

He followed, his eyes focused solely on me. His expression was… dangerous. Intense. It was nothing like the way he used to look at me before, like I wasn't the china doll he was afraid to break anymore.

"This isn't a good idea," I said weakly.

"What isn't?" His voice was a low, velvety intonation of words.

But I couldn't answer him because his lips were suddenly _there_, brushing across mine like the fluttering of a butterfly. The kiss was so… tentative. Uncharacteristic. Like he was almost _afraid_ to kiss me. There was barely a second of contact — a second that defiantly took my breath away — and it was so, so far from being enough.

A soft, strangled sound escaped my throat.

"Coward," I whispered.

It was the magic word. With a low, guttural groan of surrender, his mouth crashed down on mine. His fingers knotted in my hair, dragging me closer to him, forcing my body up against his as I became wedged between the countertop and his rock hard stomach, the pulse of electricity and fire surging between us with the potential to spontaneously erupt into flames.

I gasped in surprise at the ferocity of his enthusiasm, and then his tongue was sliding deftly into my mouth, taking control and reducing me to a mass of liquefied bones against his body. Resistance was futile.

His fingers dug into my hip, forcing my leg up slightly to accommodate the rocking of his hips as he forced me up slightly higher against the countertop, the desperation and urgency in his lips seeping into my veins until the storm took over and all I could _breathe_ was him.

_I thought he was dead_, I thought, the echo of pain squeezing my heart, making me cling to him unconsciously. My fingers fisted in his hair, dragged down his neck, clasped his shoulders with a strength I barely knew I possessed.

His hips swiveled against mine, forcing me back against the countertop. He broke the kiss to nip hungrily on my jaw, his tongue soothing the lasting traces of his teeth as he began his descent down my neck while his fingers caught the hem of my hoodie.

He dropped to his knees suddenly and I sagged back against the countertop, my stomach quivering as he pressed his lips gently, hotly, to my abdomen. His hands cradled my hips, softer this time, and his breath came in harsh, hot pants against my skin.

I drove my fingers slowly through his hair, my eyes fluttering shut.

"Fucking hell, Bel," he sounded angry, furious. "Have you any fucking idea how _mad_ I am at you?!"

"_You're_ mad at _me?_" I stiffened, pushing at his shoulders. My skin prickled as indignation overrode the flush of desire he had me caught up in. He wouldn't move, his fingers digging into my skin until I squirmed slightly, forcing him to realize his grip was too tight.

"You're keeping secrets from me," I whispered softly. I wished that my voice had sounded stronger, more nonchalant, but instead it came out strained and small. I slid down to the floor, my eyes focused on the oven door. I could feel tears starting to prick my eyes as hurt and pain wormed its way through my veins, but I refused to cry.

I couldn't even look at him.

"We can't be the way we were before, Bel," Edward said tonelessly. He sat down on the floor beside me, his legs sprawled out in front of him, and I became excruciatingly aware of how much taller and bulkier he was than me. I always had been tiny compared to him.

"Before didn't work."

"I know." Edward exhaled, his breathing the only sound in the silent kitchen.

I didn't realize I was crying until he reached over and smoothed the tear away with his thumb. I moved my face away and his hand dropped to his side, his fingers clenching in frustration.

I was so… _confused._ Nothing made sense anymore. I wanted to let him go but I wanted him to let me back in at the same time, to let me be the one he came crawling back to no matter what again.

"You're not here because of the wedding, are you?" I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself. I knew that the gun shots that day at Carlisle and Esme's and the arrival of Victoria in my house were somehow connected to each other and to Edward.

"No," Edward agreed. "I'm here on a job."

"I thought you worked in Europe."

"I work all over." Edward shrugged, his voice toneless.

"But never here," I said. Not once in the last six years had he come home. He'd never been anywhere _close_ to the state of Washington.

"Honestly, I wasn't ever coming back, Bel," Edward said. The words cut straight to my heart and I realized that somewhere deep down, I'd been hoping he _would_ return, sooner or later. I'd been… waiting… for him in this house, unable to date properly, to _function_ without knowing whether he was ever — I turned my head away so he wouldn't see the tears that were starting to slide down my cheeks, but he knew.

He _always_ knew.

"But when I saw —" He broke off, his voice coming to an abrupt, strangled halt.

"Saw what?" I demanded.

"_You_. Pictures of you — fucking everywhere! _Here_, at that hiking place you work, at Carlisle and Esme's. Every second of your fucking day was being tracked all because of —"

"Because of what?" My heart started to race. I was being _stalked_?! I was abruptly furious that he hadn't bothered to mention such an important fact, but he was beyond noticing, his hands curled into fists so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

"Someone's using you as bait," Edward said bluntly. "The 'job' I'm working? It's _you_. My job is to make sure that you don't die and to help catch the bastards responsible."

I bit back the urge to laugh incredulously. Why the fuck would someone want to kill _me_? The thought was so unbelievably stupid that my anger flew back into the forefront of my mind. He was _lying_ to me again.

"You're lying."

Edward laughed humorlessly. "I fucking wish, baby. I really fucking wish I was."

"But, _why_?"

"Charlie," Edward said simply.

A cold shiver ran through my body at the mention of my father. The most I knew about Charlie was that he left in the middle of the night when I was much younger without so much as a word. Renée went a bit mental and tried to follow him to Phoenix, dumping me on Esme's doorstep, and she eventually gave up her search and settled for Phil instead. My father had never been heard of or seen again.

Why the fuck would someone want to kill me to get to my father? What — _Who_ was he? I'd googled his name before, out of pure curiosity, and I hadn't so much as found a parking ticket. It was as if Charlie Swan had never existed except in Renée's memory.

Edward reached out, his fingers reaching for my hand, but I flinched away from him. God, he was only here because he was being _paid_ to protect me! The reason why he'd maneuvered his way deftly into my house made so much more sense from this perspective, even if it did hurt.

_Badly_.

I had to think of this situation logically instead of letting the tumult of my emotions rule my head. Rekindling anything with Edward was a fucking stupid idea, particularly if it was going to get in the way of his job or whatever. I was still feeling a little skeptical about that — why the hell would someone want to kill _me_? — but it stood to reason that I was in _some_ kinda of danger if Victoria's break in was anything to go by.

The fact that Carmen knew nothing about my marriage meant nothing. Edward had been pushed into returning here, so the reasons he left in the first place were probably still in place, even if I was clueless to what those reasons entailed.

God, I knew _nothing_.

No, that wasn't true — I knew one thing.

Edward and I weren't destined to be together — ever.

"So where do we go from here?"

**A/N:  
I know there was a problem with Victoria's "injuries" a few chapters back but I'm going back to fix it. Long story short, she was grazed, not shot... **

**Anywhoo.... review?**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:  
Wow! Another chapter, so soon??? There must be something wrong with me... haha. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing and bothering with this story because it makes writing it so much more fun!! Protege Moi is officially here, so when you're done with this chapter and want to read the back story, you can head over to my profile and find it! **

**Oh, and remember my beta, Fragile Human? Worship her. She's the reason you even have a chapter. :D**

* * *

**~*~Edward~*~**

The cold kitchen floor was starting to numb my ass, but I was reluctant to move. I probably could have twitched or shifted or done _something_ to ease my discomfort but years of training held me perfectly still, attentive to _her_ movements instead.

The rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

The tears sliding down her face.

The trembling of her lips as she exhaled.

She was slouched right beside me, her shoulder a breath away from mine, yet there was an ocean between us, and the distance left me cold.

I didn't know what to do, what to say. So I waited.

Emmett's jeep arrived in the driveway outside at six a.m. and I finally moved, pretending not to notice that Bella turned her head away when I climbed to my feet. I rolled my shoulders to work out the kinks as I walked, stepping over Jake to open the front door.

"Make sure she gets some sleep," I said as I pulled open the door. Emmett nodded silently, his lips quirking as Jake shoved his head into the palm of Emmett's hand.

I slipped past Emmett and climbed into the Vanquish, wishing like hell that I didn't have to leave her sitting there, but at the same time just… dying to escape.

God, just the sound of her running into the kitchen —! I swore under my breath as the engine turned over and raked a hand over my face in an attempt to calm myself down. I could have killed her myself when she'd blatantly ignored my orders. She had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. She was fucking _dangerous_ in a situation like that.

I drove to Seattle, back to the base. After I was cleared by security, Max took my car and drove it around to the outhouse behind the building where all the Volturi vehicles were kept.

There was a different, male secretary at the reception desk when I walked in. He took my I.D. and scanned it into the computer, before directing me toward one of the holding cells in the basement.

When I got to the white-walled, psychiatric-ward style cell, Jasper was already inside, slouched lazily in a blue, plastic seat, his expression relaxed but his eyes focused unerringly on the redhead.

Victoria Clare.

I unlocked the door with my keycard, slipping it into the back pocket of my khaki pants. Even if she stole my card to try and escape, she'd have to scan her fingerprint through the secondary door before the elevator, and if she wasn't supposed to be leaving, she'd set off about six alarms. Security would be on her in a heartbeat.

"Oh, lovely," Victoria drawled sarcastically. "_You've_ come to visit me."

Her lip was starting to swell, I noted with a hint of amusement.

She was wearing white slacks and a white t-shirt, the standard "prisoner" uniform, and curled up against the wall on her uncomfortable cot, her dinner untouched beside her.

Jasper passed me a clear manila folder as I leaned back against the wall and I flipped it open. Inside was everything the agency could dig up on short notice on her and there wasn't one line on the page that explained what the fuck she'd been doing stalking Bella.

Her parents were both alive in Connecticut, she had no siblings, no other family — absolutely no connection to Charlie Swan, Bella or anyone else — except Royce King. The document hinted at a brief, romantic liaison about a year ago, before Royce had been promoted.

"They've got a team going over her house right now," Jasper told me.

"You haven't got a warrant," Victoria pointed out dryly.

"Don't need one," Jasper smirked.

She looked like she was going to argue, but then she shut her mouth and went back to staring at the wall.

"Do you want to tell us what the hell you were doing breaking and entering early this morning?" I demanded.

"Nope." She emphasized the "p" with a quiet pop.

"Or why you were trespassing at the Cullen house in Port Angeles?"

"Like I said… no." She smiled pleasantly at me.

"Who you're working with?"

"I'm working alone."

"Sure, you are," I drawled sarcastically.

She shrugged.

"Don't bother," Jasper said to me. "Emmett and I've been over this several times this morning. She's not going to say anything we don't already know."

"That's because _she_ doesn't know."

Victoria's eyes flickered, her expression smoothing out before I could register the stunned look that had passed through her eyes, but I didn't need her confirmation. Her confidence had tipped me off. It was one of the reasons that I'd advanced so quickly into the Elite; Emmett was an expert at methods of psychological torture while I could… _sense_ things. I could read body language, expressions — it was like I had a built in lie detector.

Victoria was so confident about not talking because what meager information she _did_ know wasn't worth a fuck to us.

"Have them pull Royce King in here," I said to Jasper.

Victoria snorted.

"Way ahead of you," Jasper assured me. "We'll let him think this one —" He jerked his head at Victoria. "— squealed. If he's innocent, it won't take long to figure him out."

I nodded in agreement. "While we're questioning him, I'll have the lab run a more comprehensive study on her. We can get one of the investigators to poke around a bit."

"I'll stay here for a few hours," Jasper said as he slouched into the plastic chair. "I've nothing else to be doing."

I nodded curtly and left the room, locking the cell door behind me. I pulled out my phone and called the lab, giving them strict instructions to pull as much information on Victoria Clare as possible. I also had them call up an investigator before I hung up and made my way to the gym downstairs.

When I walked into the almost empty gym, my brows shot up in surprise when I noticed Marcus on the last treadmill, shirtless and wearing his standard black khaki pants with a deep, blood red stripe down the leg that marked him as Aro's second.

"Cullen," he acknowledged as I stepped into the room, a white towel wrapped around my neck and a bottle of water in my hand. I nodded at him as I found my own weightlifting station.

"Whitlock said you wanted to see Emmett and I while you were here," I said as I loaded the weights.

"I just wanted to see how you boys were doing," Marcus said. He was barely panting, though his skin gleamed with sweat as he jogged on the treadmill. "Aro was saying you were hired by a very high profile client."

"Something like that," I murmured.

"Carmen must be happy to see you," he smiled. When I'd been in high school, I'd spent a lot of nights having dinner at his house and I knew that Marcus was very aware of the relationship I'd had with his daughter. He'd probably had me investigated the day she came home and announced that she had a boyfriend.

"She's been really busy," I said evasively. "Though we had a chance to catch up last night. She's a good friend."

"She's a good person," Marcus stated. "But she's a bit wild. I talked her into taking time off as a Handler because I was worried about her jumping on the most dangerous jobs she can find because she craves the excitement."

"I can sympathize with her," I acknowledged ruefully. "I suppose you've heard the rumors about Egypt?"

Marcus chuckled. "From what I heard, they're not rumors."

I grinned.

Marcus sighed, hitting a few buttons on the machine until it began to slow. "I don't know why, but I just have this… feeling. Ask your own father and I'd bet anything he knows what I'm talking about. We're genetically engineered to worry about our kids but sometimes… sometimes you just _know_ when something's wrong."

He had presumed that I wouldn't fully understand what he was talking about, but I knew better than anybody how easily your instincts could be right like that.

I'd woken up feeling that way on Christmas Eve morning nine years ago, like there was a rock in the pit of my stomach telling me that something was seriously wrong. It was my first Christmas with Bella under the same roof and I found reasons to follow her everywhere that morning, convinced that there was something about to go terribly wrong.

We both went with Esme to pick up extra supplies for dinner the following day and Bella had just stepped away from the car in the parking lot when there was a squeal of tires. I didn't really think before I acted; all I could see was her face, paralyzed with shock, and then I felt my legs move.

I never recovered the memory of what happened after that, but Bella had been conscious the entire time and she'd explained, shakily, that I'd shoved her hard out of the way and she'd fallen on the concrete and wedged herself between Esme's car and a Land Rover. I hadn't been near as lucky as she had been. The truck had tried to brake but the road was too icy and the truck was going too fast for me to escape.

I cracked my head on the ice and the injury put me in a coma for two weeks.

It had been the first time that my protective instinct — the emotional muscle in my psyche that Bella triggered without even realizing — had flared to life. Charlie had no idea how right he'd been when he presumed I'd never intentionally hurt his daughter. I _couldn't_. The instinct to throw myself in front of a moving truck to save her life had proved that much. I'd almost killed myself. If I'd been even an inch to the left of where I'd been standing, I wouldn't _be_ alive. The doctors had assured me that I had _no_ idea how lucky I was.

"Maybe you should have someone keep an eye on her?" I suggested.

Marcus shook his head, chuckling. "She'd know in a heartbeat and she'd be furious. She can take care of herself, I know. She's the safest she's ever been now, anyway, working as a Handler."

I nodded in understanding.

"Anyway… I have to go. I'm overseeing a job or two while I'm here," he said, his lips curling into a slight smile. He clapped me once on the shoulder as he passed, the gesture almost affectionate, and then he disappeared out the door.

I stayed in the gym for an hour before I started to feel the exhaustion creeping up on me. I'd have to come back in later in the evening to see how Royce's questioning went, but first I needed to crash for awhile.

I grabbed my motel key from my locker and headed out into the reception area, waiting as the receptionist called Max and asked him to bring my car around.

I was just about to leave when a familiar figure strode through the door, his dirty blond hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"Cullen?" James grinned as he passed his keycard to the receptionist so he could be logged into the system. "So _this_ is where you ended up, huh?"

"Yeah," I said quietly.

"Caius never said," James said conversationally. "I'll see you around. I'll call you and McCarty for some good clubs, yeah?"

I nodded, waving distractedly as I headed for the door. Max had the car waiting for me, the engine purring quietly and just begging me to drive it. I slid into the driver's seat and drove straight to the motel room that had been set up for me at the beginning of his job. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

**~*~Bella~*~**

After Edward left and Emmett took over my kitchen, the exhaustion started to set in, but I couldn't bring myself to follow Emmett's advice and go upstairs to my bedroom. Even knowing that Emmett was in the house and that the chances of Emmett being taken down by anything short of a tank was unlikely, sleep was going to escape me. I was too keyed up, too full of questions to even attempt sleeping.

Emmett made me a delicious breakfast and I swallowed every morsel eagerly, amused by his satisfied expression when he realized how much I enjoyed his breakfast.

While I ate, he sat down opposite me and flicked on the television. Jake lay down heavily on his feet but Emmett didn't seem to mind. He occasionally leaned down to stroke Jake's fur and Jake made a low, contented sound deep in his throat that made me chuckle.

I sighed, leaning my head on the table and focused my gaze on the television, but my heart wasn't in it.

"Emmett?" I asked quietly.

"Hmm?" Emmett glanced at me, his expression attentive.

"Why… what did my f-father do?" My stomach started to knot nervously as I anticipated his answer. I hated that I cared. My father had walked out on my mother and I without so much as a goodbye. I'd resigned myself to the fact that I was never going to hear from him again and I'd managed to deal with it. I was so used to pretending that he didn't exist that acknowledging his presence in the world was… painful.

"I have no idea," Emmett said honestly. "If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say he was involved with some sort of mob. Mostly likely their leader."

"M-mob?"

"That's just a guess," Emmett said quickly. "I just think he's important."

I nodded numbly.

Emmett chuckled under his breath, shaking his head slightly. "You know he blackmailed our boss?"

My brows shot up in surprise. "What?"

"Yeah," Emmett grinned. "He forced the boss to put your case at the top of the high profile cases. He was adamant that you get the best protection possible."

I stiffened.

I knew what Emmett was trying to imply. That my father cared about me, that he hadn't abandoned me, but what was I supposed to think? I had lived eighteen years without so much as a birthday card from him. No phone calls, no letters, no signs that he was still thinking about me, that he hadn't _really_ deserted me.

"He requested Edward specifically," Emmett continued. "He even threatened to kill Edward if he fucked this up — it was fucking scary! — but you should have seen Edward. As soon as he saw your pictures, his mind was already on the next flight out. Your father's threats barely fazed him."

"Of course they didn't," I mumbled. I put my head down on my hands, my eyes flitting toward the television. Emmett was watching me carefully, gauging my reaction, and his eyes were making me uncomfortable. "Edward and I are very protective of each other, though I doubt either of us ever fully understood why," I continued quietly. I was surprised at how good it felt to say the words out loud, to release a sliver of the secrets I'd been clutching to my chest for so long that they were starting to smother me.

The relationship Edward and I had had been governed by secrets and it had destroyed us in the end.

"When I was fifteen, I was almost run over by a truck in a Wal-Mart parking lot, but Edward heard the truck coming and he pushed me out of the way. He ended up taking the brunt of the hit. He was in a coma for two weeks and I was convinced he was never going to wake up."

Emmett whistled under his breath. "He seriously did that?"

I nodded slowly. "I didn't understand why he did that. He _knew_ that he was going to get hit but he still pushed me out of the way… it took me a long time to really understand what went through his head. I had a boyfriend in high school — Seth Clearwater — and when Edward crashed the after party of our senior prom, he saw us together. Seth loved winding Edward up. He knew every trick in the book, even more than _I_ did, and whatever he said to him that night… Edward was livid. They were both drunk and things just sort of escalated… Edward threatened to shove Seth over the edge of a cliff and Seth started hitting him…"

The memory pulsed through my brain and the paralyzing, heart-stopping tumult of fear washed over me.

"I guess Edward was drinking more than I thought. Seth had the upper hand and he just kept hitting him…" I broke off, my voice faltering. "He wouldn't stop. I kept screaming but it was like he didn't even _hear_ me. So I started hitting him. All I could see was Edward's bloody face and I was convinced that Seth was going to kill him — and the only thought that really permeated my brain was _"Not if I kill him first"._"

Emmett's expression wasn't judgmental when I finally met his eyes. He looked like he finally understood a math equation that someone had been trying to drill into his head for weeks.

"You didn't kill him, though," he said softly.

"I almost had him over the damn cliff when Edward stopped me," I said quietly. "It wasn't one of my finest moments… but it was like I had tunnel vision. Seth was a threat and he had to be eliminated. That's all that went through my head, you know? Seth and I broke up the next day. He could barely look at me."

"_Seth's not man enough for you, Bella. He ran away with his tail tucked between his legs at the first sign of danger. What a wimp."_

Of course Edward had found it hilarious that Seth was scared off by a _girl_. Even with a bloody nose and bruises covering his face, he had still been able to see the funny side.

"What happened with you two?" Emmett asked. He was sincere — there was no trace of malicious curiosity in his voice — but I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. It didn't matter anyway. It was the past.

_It was over_.

The emotional roller coaster of last night started to creep up on me and my shoulders sagged with defeat. Moisture started to well in my eyes before I could stop myself and then Emmett was there, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I stiffened, unused to people hugging me, but if Emmett noticed, it didn't faze him in the slightest.

"He said he wasn't coming back," I sobbed, my hands fisting on Emmett's chest as I tried to steal some of his strength. "He said he wasn't coming back and it's all my fault."

"Ssh." Emmett stroked my back gently.

He really had been determined to keep that fucking promise. How many times had he ignored me? Overridden my protests and forced himself into my life and into my heart with the skill of a professional? The one time I _needed_ him to ignore me, to pretend that he hadn't heard me, he let me down.

I sank into the well of despair and exhaustion, my eyes refusing to open and I cried myself to sleep in Emmett's arms.

*******

When I woke, it was dark. My head ached from crying and my eyelashes felt like they were glued together. I stretched slowly on my bed, realizing that Emmett must have carried me upstairs and just pulled the sheet up over my shoulders. Jake was lying on my carpet, his body expanding slowly as he breathed, and all was quiet.

I could hear the hum of the television the floor below and I presumed that Emmett was still here.

I climbed out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. I flipped on the shower and grabbed fresh clothes from my closet, laying them out on the toilet seat before stripping off.

After my shower, I felt slightly better.

Jake followed me downstairs, slinking tiredly down the hall and into the kitchen, his stomach growling hungrily.

When I stepped into the kitchen, both Emmett and Edward were sitting at the table. Emmett had fallen asleep against the wall and soft snores were escaping his mouth, but Edward was wide awake, his eyes on the television as I stepped inside.

"You okay?" he asked without looking, knowing instinctively that I'd entered the room. I'd never gotten used to his ability to tell that I was there, even when he couldn't see me.

"Yeah," I mumbled. I made myself some coffee and then prepared Jake's dinner, rubbing his fur affectionately when he licked my hand in thanks.

I perched on the edge of the chair next to Edward's, my eyes focused on the mug in my hands. The coffee was invitingly warm, the heat slowly seeping through my fingertips and into my bloodstream.

After a few minutes, I mumbled, "I'm scared."

"I know," Edward said quietly. I could feel his eyes on me, trying to read my expression, for once I just let my defenses… fall. I let him see what he'd been able to read from the very first day back in the Rainbow Room. I glanced up at him, holding his dark, intense gaze, and the distance between us stretched like the Grand Canyon.

"I'm _really_ scared."

Edward leaned forward and lifted his hand almost hesitantly. He watched my face, his brow puckered in concentration as he slowly reached over and his fingertips grazed my temple. My eyes flickered shut and I held my breath as he drew his fingers through my hair slowly, reverently.

He shifted slightly, moving closer, and the smell of his cologne flooded my senses. "You know I'll protect you, right?" he whispered. His voice was earnest and his words were just for me alone, like that day in the hospital when he finally woke up.

"I know," I murmured. "I never doubted that."

His forehead touched mine and when I opened my eyes, his were closed and it looked like was just… absorbing. Absorbing us, me, _this_.

And I could feel it. The energy and electricity that always seemed to flicker between us like a bomb waiting to explode, always present at various strengths but never weak enough to be forgotten. The thin, invisible threads that linked us together no matter what shit occurred between us.

The moment fell apart when the phone started ringing. I pulled away hurriedly, my eyes flickering in Emmett's direction as he jumped, banging his head off the wall.

"_Fuck!"_ he exclaimed.

I chuckled and went to grab the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bella, it's Angela." I smiled at the sound of her voice, my nerves easing slightly as normalcy began to invade my tense little corner of the world.

"Hey. What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were on for carpooling tomorrow," Angela said. "Ben wants the car, so I'm just double checking."

"Of course," I murmured. "I'll pick you up at nine, like always."

"Thanks, Bella," Angela squealed. "I'll see you."

"See you."

I replaced the phone in its cradle and walked back into the kitchen. Emmett had commandeered the remote and he was flicking through the sports channels while Edward glared at him, his eyes flashing daggers.

"Is it safe for me to go to work?" I asked.

Emmett glanced up from the television, underestimating Edward's ability to multitask, and Edward had the remote out of his hands before he could say "What?"

"One of us will hang around outside or something," Edward muttered as he flicked over the channel.

"Give that back," Emmett exclaimed.

"Fuck off."

"Don't go there, dude. You _know_ you're my bitch."

"I fucking told you if you ever —"

"Yeah, yeah. Like you could take me." Emmett folded his arms over his chest and glared at Edward, silently challenging him to pounce.

I rolled my eyes and held out my hand.

Edward didn't even hesitate, he just slapped the remote into my hand.

"Whipped," Emmett mocked. "You could have at least made her work for it."

I slapped the back of his head. "Watch it."

"She'll just put on CNN anyway like I was gonna," Edward smirked at Emmett.

"No, she —"

"Trust me, Em," I interrupted. "He knows me a _lot_ better than you do." It didn't even faze me that Edward knew what channel I was flicking to; he'd always been able to tell shit like that. He just _knew_ me.

Emmett sighed grumpily.

I cranked the volume while I moved toward the cupboard to find something to cook for dinner.

"_**CNN BREAKING NEWS! We're here in Vancouver where a fire has just broken out in the high-security home of Marcus Moretti, a high profile soldier with affiliations to the FBI and other anti-terrorist cells in the US as well as Europe. Our sources tell us that Mr. Moretti made the spontaneous decision to return to his home earlier this evening and was at home less than an hour before the fire broke out. As you can see behind me, the authorities are struggling to get inside. No word yet on whether the fire was an accident or a deliberate attack on the ex-Marine…"**_

"_Fuck_!" Edward exclaimed.

I jumped as flung himself off the chair, grabbing my phone from its cradle. Emmett was swearing too, his face deathly pale, and his fingers worked furiously on his cell before he hit the call button. Both of them started talking at once and I found it difficult to follow what the hell was going on.

My heart racing, I snuck closer to the television and I almost vomited when Carmen's picture appeared on screen.

"_**Moretti's daughter, Carmen Moretti, raised the alarm from inside the house. There's no news yet on whether the contact has been maintained or lost…"**_

I clapped a hand over my mouth and barely made it to the sink before the entire contents of my stomach landed in the steel basin.

Even _I_ knew something fucked up was going down.

* * *

**Review? Don't forget to check out Protege Moi**!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:  
Here's yet another chapter :D Thank you so much for reviewing and reading and sharing your thoughts! The response to Protege Moi has been brilliant and I'm so excited about telling their back story :D The A/N at the end is important, so please read :D  
Fragile Human... about that elevator?? :D (Thankyouthankyouthankyou LOL)**

* * *

**~*~Edward~*~**

I jolted awake to the sound of my cell ringing, the shrill tones going through my head like a bullet. I glanced at the caller ID, realizing it was Jasper ringing me at six in the morning, and hit the answer button.

"Cullen," I growled.

"They're dead," Jasper said without preamble. "Aro has a team examining the scene. It looks like a professional job, four or more men, and the fire was set deliberately, though it's not the cause of death."

"What is?"

Jasper made a disgusted sound at the back of his throat. "You ever seen the movie Mission Impossible III?"

"I vaguely remember it."

"Remember the part where the bad guys inserted one of those tiny bombs into Cruise's head that would literally blow his brains out at the flick of a button?"

"Fuck," I swore. "They didn't?"

"As soon as Carmen raised the alarm, the two of them were fucked. I don't think they even realized what those fuckers had done."

"So what's happening now?" I raked a hand over my face tiredly. I could hear the faint sound of Emmett's snores coming from the second guest bedroom; Bella had made up the room for him last night and had insisted that he sleep in there, instead of on her sofa.

"All pending missions are being cancelled and incomplete mission are being re-briefed on updates," Jasper explained. "Aro is insisting on an increase in security at each base as well as on Caius's apartments in New York. He's not taking any chances."

"I presume that means you need Emmett and I?" I guessed.

"I'm sending Santiago to keep an eye on Bella while we're busy. He brought Royce King in this morning and let me tell you, the boy's not impressed. He's been demanding a lawyer all morning and threatening to sue."

"We should get that interview over and done with as quickly as possible," I said.

"And not let Emmett near him," Jasper agreed. "He hasn't seen me yet, but once he cops that Emmett's involved, he'll be furious. He'll think we've hauled him in over the girlfriend." I could almost see Jasper rolling his eyes. "The dude is ridiculously insecure when it comes to the broad."

I snickered under my breath. "He has reason to be. She hasn't exactly got a brilliant staying record; Emmett ran a background check."

"Speaking of, I ran a check on King."

"And?"

"And he's clean," Jasper muttered. "He was adopted by the Popes when he was eleven but he kept his family name. His mother died of pneumonia and his father in an accident while he was on duty — he was a cop. The Popes were some distant relatives of his according to the file. There's been no incidents of child abuse, mistreatment — anything to suggest that King might have had a fucked up childhood, you know, apart from the death of his parents. He met Victoria Clare three years ago and they were partners for twenty-one months, lovers for three. She caught him with another girl — a lingerie model, Chelsea Montenegro."

"I can't see them working together if _that's_ what happened," I said, amused.

"Neither can I, but it's better to cover all bases."

"Obviously. I'm not taking any chances."

"I'll see you at ten, then? Santiago should be in a black Lexus parked down the street. Don't panic when he starts following; he'll try to be inconspicuous."

"Is that the guy with a Mohawk?" An image of the guy in question flashed through my head; he had a dark, pink-tinged scar down his left arm, a wound inflicted during his stay in a Mexican prison. He'd become embroiled in a campaign to take down one of the most powerful drug-dealers in the area but instead, he'd almost died for crossing the wrong people. The right side of his scalp had been singed and he wore his hear in a Mohawk to even up both sides… He looked absolutely demented and the horror he experienced at the hands of the law in Mexico had affected his emotional stability, but there was something innately _good_ about him that made Aro trust him implicitly.

There was nobody I would have trusted more to keep Bella safe while Emmett and I were otherwise occupied.

"That's the guy," Jasper confirmed. "Later."

He hung up without waiting for my reply.

I crawled out of bed and showered, throwing on a pair of black cargo pants and a black wife-beater, with a loose black bomber jacket.

As I walked down the hall, Jake tugged open Bella's door with his teeth and followed me down the stairs, his tail swishing lazily as he explored the house.

I made French toast and it was just ready when Bella appeared in the hallway, and I felt the familiar curl of lust deep in my gut. She was wearing a pair of tight black Capri pants and a green t-shirt that hugged every curve of her torso. As she moved, the hem of her t-shirt lifted slightly, exposing a sliver of her stomach.

My throat went dry and I felt myself hardening in my pants.

"Morning," she mumbled tiredly. She hadn't gotten a lot of sleep last night; I heard her talking and moving restlessly in her sleep after midnight, while Emmett were sweeping her house for bugs that Victoria might have planted. She had been like that a lot when she first moved into Carlisle's house, a symptom of her growing anxiety and agitation, before she'd started sleeping in my bed.

"Hey." I handed her a plate and she murmured her thanks. She wasn't wearing any make-up and she'd thrown her hair into a loose ponytail, thin tendrils of curling brown hair framing her face. She looked adorable.

She sat down at the table and started her breakfast, humming under her breath when Jake slid his head onto her lap, protectively. I fucking loved that dog.

After a few minutes of silence, Bella's eyes flickered up from her food and searched mine. "I heard you on the phone this morning," she admitted timidly. "Do you know what happened… with the fire?"

"They're dead," I said bluntly. When Bella flinched, I cursed myself for not delivering the news more smoothly, but I was so used to dealing with shit like this now that I wasn't accustomed to handling the topic delicately. Before I could apologize, she was out of her seat, her arms sliding around my waist, instinctively, _protectively_.

"Oh, Edward, I'm sorry," she murmured against my chest.

It took me a few seconds to realize what she meant, because I was focused on how vitally warm she was next to me, my arms winding around her back to hold her to me as protectively as she was holding _me_. Energy flickered between us like electricity, like a slow dying ember in a fire that would explode into life at the slightest provocation.

Her words penetrated my brain then, their meaning seeping into my thoughts. She was _comforting_ me.

I knew how she had felt about Carmen. The hostility between the two women had caused enough tension to give me a headache. They had never gotten along, not in high school when Bella and I had been friends, not in the club Saturday night.

But Bella was still offering me a shoulder to cry on because Carmen was dead, because she knew that Carmen had at least been my _friend_.

I didn't know what to say to her. "Thanks" felt ridiculously inadequate, but I couldn't think of anything else that just… fit, so instead I just held her tighter, my resistance collapsing as I buried my face in her hair.

Her fingers rubbed soothing circles over my back, tracing invisible patterns beneath my jacket. When the tips of her index fingers brushed the tiny sliver of skin between my wife beater and my cargo pants, a shiver ran down my spine.

The fact that she was comforting me began to slip from my mind, instinct driving the electricity that flickered between us to the forefront of my brain.

"Don't, Edward." Bella stiffened.

Jake whined low in his throat and I glanced up to find him watching us, his ears flattened and his tail swishing lazily over the floor.

Reluctantly, I let Bella go.

"You're running away from me like a scared kitten," I said quietly.

Bella pushed away from me but I followed her, backing her up against the countertop. Her eyes flickered nervously, her breath hitching, but when her gaze lifted and held mine, her eyes darkened, her pupils dilating.

"You can't force me to leave this time," I insisted, my voice low, controlled. I couldn't help the trace of venom that accompanied my words.

I watched her eyes narrow slightly, her claws coming out to play.

I realized that I was deliberately goading her. I hated watching her become skittish, shying away like a frightened child. When she was fighting _me_, her eyes flashing with anger and fire, I could fool myself into believing that she was fine.

"Nobody forced you to do anything, _Edward_," Bella hissed angrily, her temper getting the better of her.

"Oh, no, you don't," I growled. "You don't get to play that card." I pressed closer, backing her up tight against the counter. I palmed the countertop behind her, trapping her like a caged animal. Irrational anger surged through my system, fueled by the fury in her eyes.

"Play that card?" Bella mocked.

"You _begged_ me," I murmured, my voice deceptively low. I caught her chin between my thumb and my index finger, forcing her to look at me. "Remember what you said, Bella? 'You. _Don't. Fucking. Care.'"_

"What the fuck was I _supposed_ to say?!" Bella demanded exasperatedly. Her eyes glinted murderously, an echo of every fight we'd ever had exploding between us like a bomb, and I almost smirked. Her voice was suffused with sarcasm as she said, "'Oh, Edward, don't leave me_. _Who gives a fuck if _you _don't wanna stay?_ I _think you should stay.'"

"Please, Bella, you were never that needy." I rolled my eyes.

"How the fuck would you know?" she exclaimed. "You didn't have a fucking clue!"

"Stop fucking swearing," I retorted, pinching her lips together. "You _know_ I hate it."

Bella's eyes hardened and she held up her fist threateningly. I let go of her face, my fingers circling her wrist and pulling it down, away from my face. She was breathing heavily, her eyes flashing bloody murder.

"Pot, meet kettle. And I'm going to be late for work," Bella growled.

"I don't give a shit."

I lowered my head, my fingers sliding up the back of her neck and twisting into a fist at the base of her head, and I gave her a second, a single, entire second to tell me to back the fuck off, before I pressed my lips resolutely to hers.

It was a flash fire, a blaze of flames that erupted at the briefest touch of skin, a storm tinged with desperation that consumed everything in its path. There were no gentle, tentative preliminaries — my mouth sought hers hungrily and she clung to me as tightly as I was suddenly clinging to her, like we needed each other to breathe.

Our teeth clacked together as I forced her lips open, and I felt her fingers scrape down my neck as I plundered her mouth with my tongue, eliciting a cascade of hot, lustful shivers down my spine. I ground my hips against hers, seeking relief, skin, heat — _anything_. I wasn't thinking anymore, I was just… being.

"Tell me you don't care now," I dared her. "Tell me you don't fucking care." I bit her lip; not enough to draw blood, but hard enough that she gasped and gripped my hair tightly. My arms shook as I lifted her onto the countertop, shoving myself between her legs.

In response, her tongue glided slowly, purposefully into my mouth, her warm breath coating my lips as she kissed me, drawing out the sensation of being drugged with a lazy flick of her tongue.

I recognized that move. I _taught_ her that move.

I felt my arm tighten impulsively around her waist, pushing her against the ridge of my erection through my pants, and her hips tilted reflexively, grinding against me as we both sought relief.

The feeling was incredible, but nowhere _near_ enough.

"Ahem."

The sound of Emmett clearing his throat broke through the hazy mist of lust clouding my brain, closely chased by his chuckle. "Is that any way to treat your house guest, Bella?"

I lifted my head, my lips curving into a smirk when I realized that Bella was giving Emmett the finger, her eyes staring unswervingly into mine. They were incredibly dark, more black than brown, and her skin was flushed, her chest heaving… her breath hot on my mouth.

It was so tempting to ignore Emmett's presence and finish what we'd started, but I knew that Bella would be furious with me… afterward.

Bella frowned suddenly, her face closing down like shutters on a window. I could feel her withdrawing from me emotionally, the hand gripping my hair suddenly going slack.

I leaned down, brushing my lips over her ear. "Don't," I said quietly.

She shivered, her fingers tightening reflexively.

"Jake's gonna have to wash his eyes out with acid after that," Emmett said reproachfully. "Look at the poor thing."

I glanced at the dog, rolling my eyes when his tail swung happily at the attention he was receiving from Emmett. Emmett had taken Bella's seat at the table and Jake was sitting on his legs, rubbing his head against Emmett's hand like a cat.

Bella pushed gently on my chest and I stepped back, adjusting myself discreetly as she hopped down from the countertop, her cheeks burning with embarrassment when Emmett winked at her.

"I need to get my bag," she stammered, running her fingers through her hair. She froze when she realized what a tangled mess I'd accidentally made of it, her eyes flickering toward mine.

I smirked.

She rolled her eyes, her lips pursing. She left the kitchen, her footsteps loud on the stairs as she took them two at a time.

"Nice breakfast?" Emmett teased.

"The best," I responded easily. I raked a hand through my hair, probably making it worse, but it helped calm me down, to get my pulse under control.

She always knew how to get under my skin just by _breathing_.

"Jasper called. The Lexus is down the street."

"We're leaving as soon as I drop Bella and her friend off. They brought Royce in. That should be… interesting."

I watched Emmett carefully, noticing the gleam in his eyes that appeared at the mention of Royce. He was dying to get into the panties of that blond. I knew he'd have his work cut out for him if he tried; even without Royce in the picture, Rosalie wasn't going to submit to Emmett that easily. She was a firecracker, that one.

Bella jogged back down the stairs, a small black purse in her hands. She tossed a pair of keys at me which I caught easily.

"Come on," she said. "Bye, Emmett."

"Later, Bella," Emmett called amusedly.

I followed Bella down the hall, my lips twitching with amusement when I noticed the hasty job she'd done on her hair hadn't fully ironed out the kinks. Without thinking, I reached out and untangled the most noticeable knot and she froze, a shiver darting down her spine.

"Come on," I smirked. "You'll be late." I could feel her eyes on my back when I pulled open the door and strode outside toward her Volvo, hitting the unlock button on the set of keys she'd handed me.

I climbed into the car and adjusted the seat to accommodate my height while she slid into the passenger seat.

"I have to go into Seattle today," I told her as I started the engine. "I have to get re-briefed on what's happening and interview a guy in connection to the break in Sunday morning, but Jasper had a guy come down to keep an eye on things here, okay?"

Bella stiffened, but she nodded her head slightly. "This feels really… stupid."

"What do you mean?"

"Why would someone be stalking _me_?" She rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly.

"Your —"

"Father. Yeah, I know," she said bitterly.

I knew that Bella was having a hard time dealing with this but there wasn't a lot that I could do to help her come to terms with the fact that she was in this situation because of her father, the same person who had left her and her mother when she was little. In her head, she had believed that he didn't give a shit about her _or_ her mother and took off in the middle of the night in search of a better life. That was all she'd ever known.

It was only when we were on the road that I connected the dots.

That night — that dark, _painful_ night flashed through my head. The cold, blank expression on her face. The sound of her voice.

"_I don't care."_

Of course I'd believed her. She never lied to me and anyway — I'd always been able to tell. Nothing had ever escaped my notice from day one… I'd just _known_.

Bella hadn't built her defenses against me over the last six years and practiced them so carefully that she was able to hide from me now so easily. She'd done it _that_ night, wrapping those walls around her like protective barriers so I wouldn't ever see the truth.

I realized then what I'd never saw.

The deepest insecurity that she'd buried inside herself, the root of all her fear.

Of course. She'd been _preparing_ herself for the day that I would leave her, believing with an unshakable certainty that I would.

_Fuck_.

I'd never been able to see beyond my own pain that night, beyond the pleading looks she shot me as she _begged_ me to stay away. To never come back.

Because she _did_ care.

Of course she fucking cared — she had cared _too_ much and her mind had gone into autopilot, shutting down her heart… a protective mechanism that had seen her through the night her father abandoned her… and her mother.

And _me_.

There was no way for me to comfort her because I'd played right into her worst fears… she was broken because I'd been so absorbed in my own pain that I hadn't picked up on hers.

"Edward?"

I glanced at her, realizing that my jaw was locked tight. She was staring at my knuckles, which were pure white as they gripped the steering wheel. I forced myself to relax my hands.

"Sorry," I muttered.

She directed me toward her friend's house and I reversed into the driveway, only daring to breathe when Bella climbed out of the car to ring the doorbell.

"_Fuck_!" I muttered, raking a hand through my hair. I felt like punching something, namely the steering wheel or the window, but I had a feeling that Bella wouldn't be very appreciative of me taking out my temper on her car.

I watched through the mirror as a small, dark haired woman answered the door and smiled at Bella. She retrieved her purse from inside the door and followed Bella down the driveway, nodding her head when Bella gestured toward the back door.

She climbed inside, a friendly smile brightening her face when she met my eyes in the mirror.

"Hi, I'm Angela Weber."

"Edward Cullen." I shook her hand, smiling briefly.

"You look a lot like your father," Angela said. "Except for the hair."

"I get that a lot." I nodded. Bella climbed into the car, shoving her seatbelt over her torso.

I started the engine and maneuvered the car back down the driveway.

"I got a call from Jessica," Angela said to Bella, and I could hear the annoyance coloring her tone.

"Mike pushed her into it, I bet," Bella responded.

"Something like that. The woman hasn't a clue what to do with a baby — I feel sorry for the kid."

"Me, too," Bella murmured. She was quiet, but I guessed that this morning was starting to catch up with her — and she was starting to regret it.

I sighed. There wasn't much I could do about that.

When I pulled up outside Newtons', Angela hopped out of the car but Bella lingered, her brow pinched in a frown.

"There's been a Lexus following us since Angela's," she said quietly, her voice shaking slightly.

I smiled reassuringly at her. "That's Santiago, the guy Jasper sent."

"Okay." Bella exhaled loudly. I leaned over and kissed her cheek, my lips brushing gently over her warm, smooth skin, and she gasped quietly.

"I'll pick you up," I murmured.

"'kay."

She shook her head slightly, her eyelids fluttering, before she opened the door and stepped out of the car. I watched her walk into the shop behind her friend before I left the parking lot, ignoring the Lexus that was parked inconspicuously down the road. Santiago was walking along the road in hiking boots and a long trench coat with an Alsatian, looking more like a weary hiker than a bodyguard. He raised his hand to salute my car and I returned the gesture, my lips tightening grimly.

I drove to Seattle, groaning under my breath when I noticed the line of traffic waiting outside of the base. Security was extremely tight and because almost every Volturi in the immediate area was being called into the base, I'd be spending about an hour waiting before I finally got inside.

When I _did_ manage to get inside after being thoroughly searched and identified, I was greeted by Jasper, who was waiting for me in the reception area. I handed the receptionist my keycard, ignoring Jasper's impatient scowl, and waited for the receptionist to log me into the system.

"It's a good thing you're here. King's getting impatient," Jasper growled when I got my keycard back. I followed him down the corridor to one of the interrogation rooms and we both headed into the adjacent room, the room behind the one-way mirror.

Royce was drumming his fingers on the table in front of him impatiently, his face pinched in an annoyed expression as he glanced around the white room. He had no idea who was inside the next room, watching his every move, but he wasn't stupid enough not to know that he _was_ being watched.

"We're just waiting on Emmett," Jasper explained. "I have a team going over King's house — I got a call from Sheridan to say that King's girlfriend had shown up but she's gone now, albeit in a huff."

"Does she know who picked him up?"

Jasper rolled his eyes. "Of course she does — this is Sheridan we're talking about. The first words out of his mouth would have been, 'Freeze! Volturi!'"

I snorted. John Sheridan was an ex-cop and old habits tended to die hard. "She'll think Emmett's behind this."

"Or you," Jasper smirked. "At least _I_ don't go around telling everybody my profession."

"No, you tell everyone you're retired, gramps," I mocked.

Jasper shot me a withering look.

After ten minutes, I called Emmett to see what was taking him so long, but he didn't pick up. Figuring he was in the shower or back in bed like the lazy fucker he was, I left him a voicemail and hung up the phone. "Let's start this show without him. It'll probably be better that way, what with the fact that he wants to get in Rosalie's panties."

"True."

Jasper grabbed a manila folder from the table and unlocked the door next to the mirror and I followed him into the white room. Royce's eyes widened when he saw the two of us, before they narrowed in suspicion.

"What? That bear of yours isn't joining us, too?" he said sarcastically. "Or are you two to detain me while he rapes my girlfriend?"

"Let's get a few things straight here," Jasper said coldly. "You might be a big shot in Port Angeles, but we're higher up on the scale of law enforcement than you are, and quite frankly, we have more important things to be doing that staging an intervention so that one of us can rape your girlfriend — that is, if she doesn't already want it."

I could hear Royce's teeth grinding together audibly as he glared at Jasper. The contrast between the murderous look in his eyes and the look that Bella had shot me this morning was like comparing a kitten to a tiger. One inspired amusement… this one would have scared a lesser man.

Unfortunately for Royce, neither Jasper nor I could be scared easily.

"You know her?"

Jasper slapped a photograph of Victoria down on the table in front of Royce.

Royce glanced at the photograph disinterestedly. "Yeah. Why? She dead?"

"How would you describe your relationship to this woman?" Jasper continued.

"Over." There was a trace of amusement in Royce's voice.

"And in the past?"

"We were partners. We dated for awhile. Look, is she dead or something? I can vouch for my whereabouts last night and the night before. When was she murdered?"

"When was the last time you saw Ms. Clare?"

"Friday."

"What were you doing?"

"We work together at the station. We don't talk anymore, so I just see her sometimes entering and leaving the station."

Royce sat back in his chair, his brows knitting together. "She's dead, isn't she?"

"Why are you so sure she's dead?" Jasper demanded coolly.

"I've conducted interviews like this," Royce pointed out, rolling his eyes.

"What if I told you that Ms. Clare had accused you of something?"

Royce sighed. "Then I'd tell you she's lying. I haven't said a word to her in a few months. The guys at work can tell you — we avoid each other like the plague."

"Why's that?"

"She caught me in bed with another woman." Royce rolled her eyes. "That tends to make a woman angry."

"Did you sleep with other women behind her back before this incident?"

Royce stiffened slightly. "Yes."

"Why's that?"

"Look, she was a lovely person and all but I have certain… tastes. You know, in bed. She's not as adventurous as she looks," Royce said.

"So you cheated on her because she wasn't satisfying you sexually?"

"She wasn't comfortable… uh…" Royce's cheeks reddened slightly. "… taking control."

"You like to be dominated," Jasper concluded.

"Yeah," Royce said awkwardly.

It figured that Rosalie was getting bored with him. If she was constantly taking the reigns, she probably wasn't getting what _she_ needed out of the relationship. Emmett had her pegged within seconds of meeting her — the guy was a fucking genius, I thought, amused.

"Look, is she dead?" Royce demanded tiredly.

"No," Jasper said. "But she won't be coming back to work for awhile."

"What?" Royce sat up, a worried frown creasing his brow. "Is she okay?"

"Why? I thought you two avoided each other like the plague?" Jasper asked.

"That doesn't mean I didn't have feelings for her." Royce looked genuinely worried. "Is she hurt?"

"No, she's fine," Jasper said. "Actually, she's under arrest. Our internal court system works a lot faster than yours — her private hearing is next weekend and the judge will be deciding how long she's going away for."

"What?" Royce looked pale. "What did she do?"

"That's none of your business," Jasper told him. "But you're free to go. I'll have a guard escort you outside."

Jasper and I left the room. While Jasper called in a guard, I stared at Royce through the mirror. I was good at reading people — hell, I was better than good. I was one of the best. Royce didn't seem like our guy… which left us at a dead end. I knew that with Victoria locked up, someone would be there to take her place — but _who_? The web of people to consider was too wide for us to work with — Charlie's influence reached places too high for us to contemplate.

This was turning out to be one of the hardest cases I'd ever worked.

"Call Emmett," Jasper instructed. "He hasn't checked in or anything."

I dialed Emmett's number, frowning when he failed to pick up.

"Do you think —?" I glanced at Jasper, worry flaring in my gut. I was already dialing Santiago's number before Jasper could answer.

"Santiago." He answered on the first ring, his voice rough.

"Is she okay?" I demanded without preamble.

"Perfectly fine. I'll call you if there's trouble." He hung up before I could answer him, but that was Santiago. Blunt. Rude.

"Where the fuck is he?" Jasper demanded. "I have to re-brief you two before five!"

"You can re-brief us at Bella's. I'm more concerned about why Emmett's not answering his phone."

Jasper huffed in annoyance. "If it's a girl, I'll kill him."

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**Uh-OH! Where's Emmett?? - - - - I've noticed fanfiction(dot)net is pulling stories with lemons in them. Should i go ahead and write a lemon in this story and post somewhere else if it gets pulled, or skim? Review and let me know!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:  
Thanks so much for reviewing!! I've been advised to issue a tissue warning, so if you're in any way a crier... um, tissues? :D**

**Thankyouthankyouthankyou Fragile Human! You rock more than you'll ever know :D**

* * *

**~*~Edward~*~**

"I can pick Bella up if you want to check out the house first," Jasper suggested as he climbed into the sleek, silver Jaguar that Max had driven to the front of the building.

I frowned, suppressing the impulse to say, "no". I understood what they meant during our training drills when they said to avoid conflicts of interest — because I wanted to protect her and ensure that she was safe, but I still wanted to be the one who picked her up from work and made sure that she was okay.

The contrast between this job and the last was laughable. How many times had I sent Emmett in my stead to pick Tanya up from the studio because I couldn't bear the thought of being alone in a car with her for more than two seconds? The first time I'd picked her up alone, she'd put her hand on my crotch just as I hit an intersection and it took a hell of a lot of control not to swerve the car into oncoming traffic. I could have _killed_ her.

I'm pretty sure if that had been Bella, we would have been at the nearest motel faster than she could say, "What?" But then, Bella wouldn't have put her hand on my crotch while I was several miles per hour above the speed limit.

_But what an idea_.

I groaned and Jasper shot me a quizzical glance, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I'll pick her up," I said finally. "You check out the house."

Jasper inclined his head once, his expression unreadable. He pulled away just as I climbed into the Vanquish.

I was going to kill Emmett if he was making us worry for no good reason.

I cranked the volume on the stereo as Beethoven's Fifth started up and drove out of the facility.

When I drove up outside Newton's Olympic Outfitters, Santiago was already sliding into the Lexus with the Alsatian and he nodded briefly to me as he passed. I inclined my head in acknowledgement, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

I climbed out of the car, my eyes flicking warily around the parking lot. There were a few cars scattered across the small parking lot, one of which was occupied by a harassed looking dad and his two twin boys. As I walked toward the front door, Angela pushed open the door, her lips pulling into a small smile when she saw me.

"Hi, Edward."

"Hey," I responded easily. She headed for the car I'd just passed, her voice reproachful as she scolded the boys for not behaving.

I pushed open the door to Newton's, my lids fluttering as I adjusted to the dark interior.

"Welcome to Newton's. Can I help you with anything?"

I glanced down at the bleached-blond that had appeared at my shoulder. She was smiling coyly, her arms folded across her chest in a position that pushed up her breasts underneath her pink tank top. She would have been pretty if mascara hadn't been caked under her lashes, like she'd been crying.

"Uh… no," I said, glancing around. Bella was shrugging on her jacket behind the cash register, and when I glanced in her direction she smiled. My lips quirked in amusement when I read the relief in her eyes; had she missed me?

"Ready to go?" I asked her as she approached. She nodded emphatically, her eyes flickering in the other woman's direction, before I realized exactly _why_ she was relieved.

Whoever the fake blond was, she'd been annoying Bella all day.

"Bella? Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" As the blond spoke, she placed her hand on my arm.

I shrugged her off diplomatically, a little bemused.

"Edward, this is Jessica, the boss's wife," Bella said impatiently. She didn't complete the introduction.

Jessica's eyes narrowed as she threw in the "boss's wife" line. Ordinarily, this situation probably would have amused me, but I was impatient to get her home so I could find out what the fuck was happening with Emmett.

I nodded once at Jessica, not wanting to be rude, and gestured for Bella to follow me outside. As soon as we stepped out into the parking lot, I felt Bella take my arm.

"What's happened?" she demanded quietly.

I glanced curiously at her, my brows pulling together in a frown. She was staring up at me, her chocolatey eyes searching mine, and I read the worry reflected there. My chest contracted slightly when I realized what she'd done.

_She was reading me again_.

"Emmett's not answering his phone," I admitted quietly. "He was supposed to meet us in Seattle five hours ago, but he never made it."

Bella sucked in a breath, the worry deepening in her eyes. I opened the door for her and she mumbled a low, distracted "thank you" as she climbed inside. I circled the car and slid into the driver's seat, waiting for the engine to turn over before I eased my foot down on the accelerator.

"Is Jasper at the house?"

I glanced at Bella, noting how pale she was starting to look. She was fidgeting, her fingers playing with a loose thread on her jacket and making it worse.

"Yeah." My eyes on the road, I reached over and clasped her hand in mine. To my surprise, she didn't protest. She entwined our fingers, her grip tightening slightly, and I felt, rather than realized, how she was allowing herself to lean on me, emotionally.

Considering the revelation I'd come to this morning, I knew this was a huge step for her, allowing herself to rely on me. A lot about this fucked up situation meant she was relying on me, against her will, but this _was_ something she could control.

I rubbed my thumb along her knuckles gently, savoring the little tingles of electricity that flickered between us.

When I pulled up outside the house behind Jasper's car, I reluctantly let go of her hand.

"Stay here until I check in with Jasper," I said tonelessly, my eyes on the jeep in front of Jasper's car. _Emmett's_ jeep.

"Okay." I was surprised that she didn't argue, but then I saw how worried she looked and I realized that the reality of this situation was starting to catch up with her.

I climbed out of the car and hurried up the drive, pulling Bella's spare key from my pocket. I let myself in and glanced around, my hand automatically going to the gun tucked into the back of my pants.

"Jasper?" I called.

"Kitchen."

I walked down the hallway and cocked my brow at Jasper when I found him sitting at the table, a mug of coffee in his hands. He didn't look particularly worried — more, discomfited.

"Did you find Emmett?"

"Upstairs."

He pointed upwards. Bemused, I started back down the hallway, pausing at the door to wave Bella inside. She climbed awkwardly out of the car and jogged up the drive, her cheeks flushing slightly when Jake bounded out the door behind me and pounced on her.

"Ow! Jake!"

She scratched the dog's head for a moment before she continued her walk inside.

"Where's Emmett?" she asked, slightly breathless.

"Upstairs, apparently." I shot a disconcerted glance down the hallway, confused by Jasper's attitude.

"What?" Bella noticed my bemused expression.

"I don't know." I started up the stairs, aware that she was following me. Jake wormed his way around my legs and darted down the landing, toward the guestroom. His tail swished happily through the air as he nudged open the door.

I heard a low, masculine groan.

"Emmett — oh, fuck!" I shoved open the door and threw my hands over my face, grimacing. I heard Bella's shocked inhalation, following by her giggle.

"Hey, Bella," he said cheerfully.

"Oh, man, I'll have to burn my eyes with acid to get rid of that image," I said disgustedly as I turned and strode out of the room.

"Edward, you have to untie him," Bella said. Her voice sounded choked, like she was struggling to breathe, but when I looked in her direction, I realized she was fighting the urge to laugh. Color had bloomed on her cheeks, complementing the sliver of embarrassment in her expression, but she was mostly amused.

"Yeah, Edward, I'm getting cold!" Emmett called.

"So, why did Jasper tie you up?" Bella asked casually.

"I DIDN'T FUCKING TOUCH HIM!" Jasper yelled up the stairs. "I'M NOT THE WEIRDO INTO KINKY SEX!"

Bella's eyes narrowed and she glared at Emmett. "I don't remember giving you permission to bring girls back to this place."

"I didn't, I swear." Emmett was starting to sound desperate. "She showed up and —"

"Who?" Bella frowned.

"That blond — Rosalie," Emmett said exasperatedly. "Man, I thought she liked me when she took out the ropes."

Bella moved away from the doorway and I shifted my stance in front of the bathroom, in case she needed to throw up or something, but when she glanced at me, I realized there were tears streaming down her face and her shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

"Oh, fuck," I gasped, and subsequently exploded into peals of laughter. "Oh, man… I _love_… her."

"Bella!" Emmett whined. "Fuck, Edward! Untie me, will you?!"

His pleas only made Bella laugh harder and I couldn't help the amused smile that started to work its way across my face. It was the happiest I'd seen her since I'd come back, and the sound of her laughter was infectious.

"We could just leave him there," I said.

"Ew, no." Bella shook her head. "Those are my good sheets!"

I snorted, shaking my head as I walked back over to the door. "Bel — grab one of the grey boots from my closet. The right one."

Bella nodded, disappearing into the room I'd taken over as I stepped into the guestroom. Emmett was lying spread-eagled across the bed, his wrists and ankles tied to each bedpost with thick cords, and he was completely naked… and semi-erect.

I smirked at him, after I'd gotten past the first, stomach-churning pang of disgust. "Guess that settles _that_ argument," I said smugly.

"What argument?" Emmett demanded.

"Remember that chick in Milan thought we didn't understand Spanish and she asked her friend if she thought you worked out because you were compensating for something?"

"What's your point?" Emmett scowled.

"She was right. I _am_ bigger," I grinned.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "What are you using in the shower, Eddie? A magnifying glass?"

"Am I wounding your pride?" I teased.

"Here." Bella threw the boot I requested at me and I caught it deftly, sliding my hand along the instep until I found the tiny zip I'd had sewn into it. I pulled out the small blade, and dropped the boot on the floor.

"Edward's right," Bella said seriously. "He _is_ bigger."

I glanced at her sharply, amusement surging through my system when she slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening, like she hadn't intended to say that.

Emmett snorted. "Right. You and Eddykins?"

I sliced through the cord at his right wrist, reminding him that _I_ was the one with the knife, and he was the one in the helpless situation. As soon as his hand was free, he grabbed a pillow and placed it over his crotch.

Bella winced. "My good pillows," I heard her mumble under her breath.

"What do you mean _'You and Eddykins?'_?" I scowled.

"Please." Emmett rolled his eyes. "If you two have had sex, then I'm the king of England."

"We have," Bella said defensively.

Emmett snickered. "Just because he stuck his tongue in your mouth, does _not_ mean you copulated, chica. Trust me, I _know_."

I flicked my wrist, juggling the knife dangerously over his head.

"You're as bad as Rosalie," Bella scowled. She ripped the pillow from Emmett's hand and threw his jeans onto the bed. It took Emmett a few seconds to realize she was seriously pissed, not kitten-pissed.

"Emmett's an idiot," I said. "Don't mind him."

Bella sighed, rolling her eyes. "Makes sense though, doesn't it? Maybe the reason nobody fucking knew was because nobody would have believed that _I_ was sleeping with _you_ in the first place."

Red, angry splotches of color appeared on her cheeks as she stormed around the bedroom, picking up Emmett's clothes without even a glance in my direction.

As soon as the words left her mouth, I felt my own anger rising in my chest. Bella had had self esteem issues since she was a teenager, stemming from the fact that almost all of the boys she had liked in school had preferred Alice, and even though Alice would never have dared to date somebody if it would upset Bella, the fact that they liked Alice more was reason enough. She had never noticed the boys _that_ did like her, because she was ridiculously unobservant.

But she'd gotten over it. Dr. Gerandy had scheduled in individual sessions with her for that express purpose. The fact that she was letting it control her life again made me angry, because she wasn't even _trying_ to fight it.

"No, it doesn't fucking make sense," I growled at her. "The fact that we _were_ together proves that all that self-esteem shit is in your head. _Again_."

I barely had time to duck when she threw one of Emmett's sneakers at my head. It thumped against the wall.

"It _wasn't_ all in my head," Bella yelled furiously. "You dated _Carmen Moretti _for crying out loud! How the fuck was I supposed to compare with _that_?"

I gritted my teeth in exasperation. "I didn't _marry_ Carmen, did I?"

Bella's face reddened, but her retort was interrupted by Emmett.

"_What?_" He was staring at us with wide eyes, shock etched into his expression.

"Great," Bella said sarcastically. "Why don't we just tell everyone?"

"Maybe I _want_ to," I countered as I raked a hand through my hair. I felt the anger start to drain from my system, until all I felt was weary, like we'd been fighting for years instead of just a few minutes.

"Do you want to explain why you left me, too?" Bella demanded. Her temper was starting to abate, too, and while her voice was thick with anger, there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes that made my heart contract painfully.

"Bel —"

I started after her, but she slammed the door shut behind her before I could follow. I listened to her footfalls as she headed into her own room, and the subsequent slam of her bedroom door.

It was a few seconds before I moved.

"Why _did_ you leave her?" Emmett asked when I started slicing through the rope at his ankle.

"Because the man sentenced to death for my mother's murder was innocent," I said quietly.

The sound of the shower turning on dragged me away from thoughts I did _not_ want to analyze.

I cut the remaining ropes and set Emmett free before heading downstairs, where Jasper was cooking something that could have been dinner, but could have just been burnt shit, too.

I took over silently, shooting him my scariest glare when he attempted to argue, and threw out whatever the fuck he had on before starting from scratch.

I smelled her as soon as she stepped into the room. Her strawberry shampoo assaulted my senses and I glanced over my shoulder, stiffening slightly when I recognized the blank expression on her face.

She was either still seriously pissed off, or she was retreating.

Again.

Emmett came downstairs, fully clothed, shortly after she did and the four of us ate dinner in silence. Afterward, Emmett started flicking through the sports channels on the television and while he and Jasper argued over who was going to win this season in football, I caught a fistful of Bella's t-shirt and started dragging her down the hallway.

To her credit, she didn't even bother struggling.

I pulled her into the living room, the room she rarely ever used. There was a larger television in here, along with some family photographs on the mantle piece, but the room was cold.

I left the light off as I towed her over to the sofa, shutting the door behind us.

She sat down, folding her legs under her as she faced me, but I couldn't read her expression in the darkness. I suspected that she preferred it this way, which was why I had left the light off in the first place.

"I think we should have that talk now, don't you?" I murmured.

***

**~*~Bella~*~**

I shivered slightly in the cold room, acutely aware of the body heat that Edward was radiating on the other side of the sofa. My knee was brushing against his elbow and it felt like every nerve ending was standing to attention in my leg, like a single touch of his skin would cause a spark of electricity.

I forced myself to concentrate on his words because I knew that this conversation was extremely important to us, for us. The fact that I couldn't see him in the semi-darkness helped to ease my nerves, but it didn't help that I couldn't read his expression.

I couldn't make myself feel angry. I _had_ been angry before, but as I'd stood under the hot spray in the shower, I'd just… let it go. I spent too long angry with him as it was, when I was as much to blame for all this as he was. The two of us had created this mess together and it was up to _both_ of us to get us out of it.

"Bel… that night," Edward murmured. His voice sounded strained, like it cost him to talk about it, and I felt the answering pang in my own chest as I recalled the night he was talking about. I steeled my shoulders, wrapping my arms around my middle. "I couldn't think."

"What do you mean?" I whispered.

"I mean… I felt really sick. Like — I can't even describe it. It was like my stomach had been twisted into an extremely tight knot. When I came home and you were waiting for me, even though everyone else was in bed, I wanted to just… vomit, or something. You weren't supposed to be waiting for me; I was going to wait until morning to talk to you."

Edward's voice was rough, twisted with distaste, and I knew he _really_ didn't want to talk about this, but he was forcing himself to.

"I was scared," I admitted softly. "I-I noticed when you got that letter and then you stopped holding me before I fell asleep, and I could feel you pulling away from me." I stopped, inhaling shakily. The memory slammed into me and I could feel moisture welling beneath my eyelids, but I blinked away the tears impatiently. I didn't want to talk about this, but it was necessary. "I thought you were leaving me for her."

I remembered the dream I'd had only a few nights before _that_ night, the one where I stood, paralyzed, while their bodies entwined with graceful precision… it had been my worst nightmare, and Edward had been lying so far away from me on the bed that I'd thought he wasn't there when I woke up, gasping.

"The letter was from a man named Derrick Broderick," Edward said quietly. "It was addressed to Carlisle but I opened it accidentally, before I realized my mistake. Still, I am eternally grateful that I _did_ make the mistake. My father was only just starting to be happy again, with Esme. He didn't deserve to hear that the man who murdered my mother wasn't the man the Volturi had caught."

I gasped, shock paralyzing me.

"Carlisle performed a particularly complex surgery on Derrick Broderick's daughter but she died on the operating table due to complications. Broderick blamed my father. He killed my mother in retaliation and let another man take the blame — but the act of killing my mother had awakened his appetite for violence. He was determined that my father lose everything — Esme, Alice, me, _you_. The letter — he sent photographs of himself in the act of mutilating my mother to aggravate my father."

I felt sick — sicker than I'd felt when they announced Carmen's death on the television, but I forced myself to endure the sensation. I couldn't even bring myself to imagine the pain that Edward must have been going through, receiving that letter. I felt my heart start to ache painfully; it had always been like that.

His pain, my pain.

"The letter solidified my decision to join the Volturi — Carmen put in a good word for me with her father and I got accepted almost immediately into the program. I'd just gotten the call before I returned home — to find you waiting for me."

I could see Edward's lips twisting into a grimace and my hands itched to touch him, to comfort him in some way, but I was paralyzed by the sick feeling in my gut.

"I didn't hunt him down for another three years, when I returned to England. Killing him had been surprisingly easy. I didn't even feel remorse — just relief, that you were safe. I wasn't even thinking about Esme or Alice, or Carlisle." He laughed, but the sound was cold and hollow. "But then, I was always thinking about you."

I opened my mouth to speak, licking my lips. Salty wetness clung to my lips; my tears had spilled over.

"I feel like a bitch," I admitted softly.

"You didn't know." Edward shrugged.

"I _should_ have," I countered. "I knew you, Edward. I knew there was something wrong. You were acting cold and distant — especially that night — but I let my insecurities run rampant and I convinced myself that you were acting that way because you didn't want me anymore, not because you were in pain." I growled in frustration. "I should have known!"

"How could you have known? I'd never lied to you before. Why would you have suspected that I was, then?" He sighed coldly. "I regret lying to you, but I'll never regret leaving."

I flinched, even though I understood what he meant.

"You left with Carmen." Of that I was sure.

"Yes."

I had wanted to believe that my insecurities were unfounded, but I knew that they had stemmed from something serious. He _had_ left with Carmen, maybe not in the same way that I'd presumed, but I had been right, still.

"Did you sleep with her? After, I mean."

"I tried." I ignored the sudden twist in my gut at that, glad that he was being honest with me. "I couldn't, though. It wasn't the same. She wasn't you."

"I tried, too," I admitted. "Two years ago, Rosalie set me up with this guy. He was nice and I liked him, but like you said… he wasn't you."

My lips twisted. "I hate this, Edward."

He stood suddenly, violently, and lurched toward the wall. His hand fisted and I thought he was going to punch the wall, or something, but then he rested his head against the cool surface, his eyes fluttering shut.

"I know," he murmured. "I know."

My stomach churned nauseously and when I blinked, more tears began to slip out from beneath my lashes, but I watched him, carefully, _protectively, _because I was becoming re-attuned to his moods, his emotions… and it _hurt_.

Opening up that link again, like forcing open a door of rotten wood, was almost as painful as the agony that the two of us felt, between us.

"I'm sorry," Edward whispered.

"I'm sorry, too." Sighing, I stood up and moved toward the door. I could feel his eyes on my back, his confusion. I opened the door, ignoring the sounds coming from the kitchen. I trusted Jasper to see himself out when he was ready to leave.

I felt so _tired_. Exhausted. Emotionally _and_ physically.

I turned in the doorway and held out my hand, wordlessly.

He crossed the room in three strides, understanding my intention without a single question.

But that was us, the old us, and now the new us.

In perfect synchronization.

We walked upstairs and he sat down on the edge of my bed, untying his shoe laces. I slid my Capri pants down my legs, methodically removing my clothes and smiling faintly at Edward when I grabbed his discarded t-shirt and slipped it on, instead of my usual pajamas.

His responding smile made my heart ache.

He stood, wearing only his boxers, and my eyes widened slightly. His body was so much more defined than it had been before, his muscles flexing slightly with barely concealed power every time he moved. There were some faint, pink scars on his chest and there were other, deeper cuts and bullet wounds that peppered his skin, but he was still so _beautiful._

He wore a plain, silver chain around his neck, something I had noticed before, but now I realized its significance.

Resting above his heart and threaded through the chain, was his wedding ring.

The tears fell more easily then, soaking my skin.

Before he could reach for me, I darted into the bathroom and ended up scattering several tubes of toothpaste and razors all over the sink in my haste to find my grandmother's ornamental jewelry box. I unclasped the latch and the wedding band fell into the palm of my hand. I cleaned up the sink, shivering slightly when Edward appeared in the doorway, his brows drawn together in bemusement.

"Bel?" he murmured.

I couldn't bring myself to put it on. I'd only ever worn the ring once, when Edward had slid it onto my finger, the day we'd been married.

I had no idea why, but that fact only made me cry harder.

"Bel?" Edward repeated as he stepped forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. The feeling of intense relief was acute and I felt my knees weaken, just as his arms came around my waist.

He led me back out of the bathroom, flicking off the light switch as he went, and I climbed onto my bed, forcing myself to ignore the gun holster he had dropped onto the nightstand when I placed the ring on the wooden surface beside it.

When he turned off the main light, I waited with bated breath as he slid into the bed on the opposite side, his breathing quiet.

There was an awkward moment before I gave in to the urge to burrow closer and his arms came around me tightly, like I remembered. He was so warm, vibrant, _alive_. I could hear his heart beating like a steady drum beat in his chest, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe properly.

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**A/N:**  
**Review? :D**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:**

**Thank you so, so much to everyone who has reviewed/read/supported this story so far! And most especially to my beta, Fragile Human, because without her, you wouldn't have a chapter! She has some freaky, voodoo hold over me ;) Love ya, bb! Anyway, without any further ado, i give you chapter 16!**

* * *

Victoria Clare's teeth gnashed together as she stared at the white ceiling. She could feel her sanity beginning to ebb the longer she remained locked up in the cold cell. Her dinner was left untouched on the bed next to her, just like all the meals that had come before that. She counted them, just so she could keep track of what day it was, but the walls were starting to mess with her head. She'd lost count after Wednesday.

There was a guard outside her cell door. He stood, perfectly still and stoic, and if she hadn't been on her side of the bars, she might have found his dedication admirable, if a little amusing. It was like being on a stake-out. Victoria had hated stake-outs. She had no patience for sitting around all night, drinking shitty coffee and listening to Royce drone on about his imminent promotion — _the promotion_, she thought smugly, _that never_ _came_.

"Hey, soldier," Victoria sang as she climbed off the bed. She moved too fast; her head swam dizzily as her feet hit the floor and she almost toppled over. She was disgusted at her own weakness. When she'd been eighteen, she'd starved herself to look as thin as the popular girls at school and she'd learned to survive on the bare minimum. What had happened to her since then?

The guard didn't even shift slightly at the sound of her voice. The Volturi trained their men well. Victoria doubted that even the Secret Service were as disciplined as these guys.

"You were here yesterday, weren't you?" she said.

The guard didn't respond, though Victoria hadn't really expected him to. As much as she despised the trio of idiots who had taken it upon themselves to "question" her, she almost felt disappointed that they hadn't come to see her since they'd threatened to tell Royce that she'd "squealed". Well maybe not the older one, the one with the blond, wiry hair and the criss-cross of scars on his forearms. The way he just sat there and stared at her made her squirm. There was nothing remotely sexual about his gaze but Victoria likened the sensation she felt under his gaze to that of the men she'd encountered on the streets, who would stare at her while she was undercover and make vulgar comments about what they'd like to do to her. She felt exposed, naked, and dirty.

She liked toying with the other one, though. It gave her a strange sense of satisfaction to watch the temper flash in his green eyes when she taunted him over his skinny little girlfriend. The guy was an absolute _babe_, but his taste in women sucked. The Swan girl had about as much personality as a toilet seat. The little bitch had been completely oblivious that Victoria had been following her for over a year now, learning her routine and her habits. She had been the most boring person that Victoria had ever encountered and only the promise of that six-figure check in the mailbox had convinced Victoria to keep following _his_ instructions.

Victoria didn't even care that she was looking at a few years behind bars. She was strong enough to take care of herself and the sums of money currently resting in an off-shore bank account in her parents' names were strong motivators.

She even felt grateful that her _employer_ had kept everything on a need-to-know basis, though the fact that she had been completely in the dark had, at first, pissed her off royally. Why the fuck was Isabella Swan so special? And why the fuck was _he_ so interested in her? She didn't even get _parking tickets_, for fuck's sake!

Victoria had considered that maybe he had a perverted, sexual interest in the girl, though she failed to see what had caught his interest. She could admit that Isabella was _pretty_, but she didn't do much to emphasize her assets. The dead look in her eyes couldn't have been very attractive. But would a man like_ that_ really pay a corrupt cop to take generic photos of her day-to-day life? Victoria always figured that men of that particular caliber would get off on taking the pictures themselves.

The arrival of her _bodyguards_ didn't make sense, either. Victoria sighed, her eyes flicking back up to the white ceiling. Curiosity had always eaten her up inside and this was no exception, but she ruthlessly shoved it away. Knowing more would only get her into more trouble than she could handle.

The sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway drew her attention away from her thoughts. The guard at the door straightened slightly, his light-blue uniform inflating slightly as he pushed his chest out, trying to look important.

Realizing that one of her interviewers was probably back to torment her some more, she scrambled back onto the bed, ignoring the pounding protest of her head as she moved far too fast for her body to handle.

She slumped against the pillows, looking far too weak for her peace of mind, but she felt too exhausted to correct her posture. It didn't matter anyway. As weak as her body was, her resolve was strong as it had ever been.

Her cell door opened with a quiet click and Victoria felt her eyes widen in surprise when a man she didn't recognize made his way into the room, grabbing the blue, plastic chair that the wiry-haired guy seemed to favor. He swung it around so it was facing the wall before straddling it carelessly, his tracksuit pants stretching over the thick, corded muscles on his thighs.

He wasn't conventionally handsome, or downright sexy like the bronze-haired bodyguard, but Victoria felt a spark of awareness dart through her body as he stared at her.

"Four interviewers?" I drawled. My voice sounded scratchy from lack of water. "I really am getting the five-star treatment."

"Leave us." Her interviewer jerked his head at the door, his eyes narrowing slightly at the guard, who bowed his head and started down the hallway obediently.

A pulse of fear skittered down my spine. So he wasn't one of the regular guys, then?

"You've been a naughty girl," he stated, as soon as the guard was out of earshot.

Victoria's brows shot up, her expression twisting into a disdainful, questioning smirk to hide the fear that continued to escalate in my chest. He could do anything to her, she realized. There was no guard outside, no one to hear her if she screamed for help.

"Have I?" She tried to sound nonchalant, but she wasn't sure that she managed it.

His tone was hard. "The boss isn't very happy with you. You've gotten extremely sloppy."

Victoria froze in surprise. Her instincts told her that this was a trick; he would pretend to know her mysterious employer to ferret the truth out of her before having her locked up permanently. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said carefully.

He raised one sardonic brow. "Don't you?"

"Nope." She popped the "p".

Victoria watched as his eyes glinted with something akin to grudging respect. He glanced around the room, his gaze falling on the plate of food next to her bed.

"I heard you haven't been eating."

"I'm not hungry."

Another sardonic lift of his brow. Even with fear pulsing through her like a second heartbeat, Victoria could admit that the condescending expression on his face suited him.

"It's not poisoned," he said. He tilted his head, scrutinizing her. "Or laced with truth serum," he added as an afterthought.

"Doesn't mean I want to eat that crap," she responded.

He stared at her for a heartbeat longer before he stood suddenly. Victoria flinched, but he didn't attempt to approach her.

"I have a message for you," he said, his voice cold. "The boss would like me to inform you that if you mess up again — if you even _breathe_ somewhere you're not supposed to — you won't live long enough to see another jail cell. And your instructions have changed. Be ready to leave this place in an hour. The car will deposit you at a phone booth, which will ring three times, before cutting off and redialing. Answer it."

Victoria was too stunned to answer him as he headed for the door. She was getting out of here? She was being set _free_?

Doubt sliced through her like a knife.

"Are you serious?" she demanded.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he gestured toward the untouched plate of food by the bed. "Eat. You're going to need your strength."

And with that, he was gone.

**

* * *

~*~Bella~*~**

I woke up on Friday morning feeling incredibly nauseous. I managed to crawl into the bathroom and bend my head over the toilet seat before I heaved up last night's dinner, but throwing up didn't make me feel at _all_ better.

I sighed, leaning my head back against the cool bathroom tiles on the wall, and tried not to think about tonight. Ever since Edward and I had talked on Monday night, I'd known this dinner was coming… but now that it was here, my entire body rebelled against leaving the house. I had half a mind to book a flight to Hawaii and write Esme and Carlisle — and Alice — a letter, but I knew they deserved better, especially after all these years. I knew I should have done this sooner but it was only on Tuesday morning that I realized just how much.

My eyes fluttered shut as I remembered.

_I could feel my body starting __to wake up, my senses slowly coming to life, when I realized that something was wrong. The feeling was indefinable; just a subtle hollowing of my stomach and a gentle constriction in my throat._

_I knew before I opened my eyes that Edward was gone; my fingers reached out tentatively behind me, encountering cool sheets and an empty pillow. He had been gone for awhile._

_I frowned, trying not to dwell on the reason why, but I couldn't help the inkling of doubt that invaded the peace I had found last night. We weren't healed — not by a long shot — but I had hoped that we'd made a huge step in that direction._

_We had, hadn't we?_

_I glanced around the room, but there were no signs that he'd even been inside, save for the indent of his head on the pillow. I could still smell him; the unique, earthy, manly smell that I associated only with him lingered in the air._

_Slowly, I slid off the covers and climbed out of bed. I padded into the bathroom and flipped on the shower, trying to control my rampant thoughts. He'd never left me alone in bed… before. Always, he'd kissed me awake and whispered goodbye into my hair if he had to go. Just so I'd know._

_Had he been embarrassed? Ashamed? Regretful?_

_I stepped under the hot spray, silently hoping that the water would drive the cold feeling from my veins, but it didn't work. I dried off hurriedly and pulled on my work clothes, frowning slightly as I tried to remember who was carpooling this morning._

_I walked downstairs quietly, my mood lightening slightly at the sound of Emmett whistling in the kitchen. When I stepped inside, my eyes automatically searched the kitchen for Edward, but he wasn't there. Emmett was fixing something at the stove, wearing a wife beater and black tracksuit pants, and I stared, morbidly fascinated with the indentations of muscles and controlled strength outlined on his body. A body I was now reluctantly fully acquainted with._

_He was built like a warrior. The thought was disturbing._

_"Hey, Mrs. Cullen," he grinned, when he noticed me standing by the door._

_I glared at him but he just ignored me as he began piling food onto a plate. He passed me an omelet and a glass of orange juice._

_"Eat up, skinny."_

_"Where's Edward?"_

_Emmett jerked his head toward the back door. "He's out in the yard."_

_I noticed, then, that Jake wasn't around either. Ignoring the churning sensation in my gut, I ate my breakfast and listened to Emmett's cheerful whistling as he cleaned up the kitchen after himself. His eyes kept straying in the direction of the television, where he had a local news channel on._

_When I was done, I cleaned up my plate, ignoring Emmett's offer to do it, and set it carefully on the draining board. Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and headed for the back door, relieved that Emmett made no move to stop me. That had to be a good sign, right?_

_As soon as I stepped outside, I saw him. Edward was standing with his feet paced slightly apart, facing away from the house, his hands buried in the pockets of his tracksuit pants. My stomach cramped nervously as I started toward him, my heart starting to race._

_He turned to face me just as I reached him, his inexplicable expression softening slightly. _

_I smiled tentatively. "Hey."_

_"Hey." He sighed quietly, holding out his arm at an awkward angle, his eyebrow arched in invitation. My smile solidified as I ducked under his arm and allowed him to fold his arm around my shoulders, enveloping me in his warmth._

_"I missed you this morning," I murmured, my eyes straying to where Jake was lying, stretched out on the grass. He was watching us lazily, his tail swishing gently through the air as he relaxed. _

_Edward didn't answer for a few moments. His brows drew together thoughtfully and he continued to stare out at the trees beyond the garden parameter, and he was silent for so long that I thought that maybe he hadn't heard me. But when I opened my mouth, he said, "Jasper was here at five. He had to re-brief us."_

_I hummed my understanding, though I didn't really._

_"I've been thinking," Edward said abruptly._

_"Yeah?"_

_"We should talk to Carlisle and Esme. Soon."_

_I stiffened. Panic surged to life in my chest and I almost blurted out, "NO!" before I could stop myself. My entire body screamed that it was a bad idea, but I had to remind myself that years of lying to them and keeping secrets from them was what was causing my panic. _

_I forced myself to consider what Edward was saying, to see past the apprehensions of the teenage me and consider things seriously. Lying to them in the first place had been wrong. I knew that now. Edward and I never should have abused their trust right under their own roof and we definitely shouldn't have flitted off to Vegas because we were scared of losing each other. Carlisle and Esme had raised us and loved us. They deserved so much more than what we'd done._

_Telling them the truth wouldn't be easy, particularly after all the chances I'd had to own up in the past. But it was the right thing to do. I knew that._

_"I think you're right," I admitted slowly. "But how much do we tell them? They deserve to know about our — our relationship… and Vegas… I mean, the past. But with everything now —?" I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. "I still think that we have more to talk about first, because I know Esme. She's going to ask questions. About the future."_

_"I know." Edward's fingers began to trace lazy, distracted circles along my arm, and I shivered at the warmth his touch elicited through my clothes. I couldn't help the sharp, sudden pulse of longing that rose up inside of me. I resigned myself to the fact that Edward was always going to evoke these feelings in me, whether I liked it or not. "Come on." He sighed suddenly, dropping his arm. "You're going to be late for work."_

My stomach heaved violently and I shoved my head back over the toilet seat as I threw up again. This was beyond a joke; as if I needed any more reasons not to go tonight.

"Bel?"

I flinched as Edward dragged the bathroom door open, his eyes blinking sleepily as he glanced inside, his brow furrowed with worry. It was sickening how drool-worthy I found him in his sleeping apparel while my stomach heaved nauseously at the same time.

"Go away," I croaked.

Edward rolled his eyes, muttering something that sounded like, "Don't be ridiculous", as he caught my hair in his fist and dragged it out of my face, just in time. He rubbed my back soothingly as I emptied my guts — and my dignity — into the toilet and flushed it after me.

"Better?" he murmured as I leaned back against the cool tiles.

"No," I sighed. "Ugh. I'm going to be late for work."

"Call in sick." He made it sound more like an order than a suggestion, but it didn't matter how he phrased it — I still ignored it.

"I've already used up all my sick days on Alice's spontaneous shopping trips," I explained. "Besides, I'm not sick. I just have a really bad feeling about tonight."

Edward's eyes narrowed as I climbed to my feet, sweeping my hair back from my face. "I don't care if you have a stroke, Bel, you're not getting out of this."

I shot him a withering glance. "I wasn't trying to. Now get out — I need to shower."

He rolled his eyes as he pulled himself up off the floor. "_Thanks for helping, Edward_," he mocked, in a poor imitation of my voice.

"Fuck you, Cullen."

"I know you would."

**

* * *

~*~Edward~*~**

Friday dragged. Unfortunately, besides keeping an eye on Bella — which consisted of driving by Newtons' more often than necessary and scanning the area for unfamiliar cars — there wasn't much else that I needed to do. With Victoria behind bars, we'd hit a dead end in the investigation and I should have been wracking my brains, trying to figure out a different angle… or at least thinking about who would want to murder Marcus and Carmen (the list was lengthy, considering how they'd been employed, but there weren't a lot of _plausible_ suspects that explained the "why now?" question)… but it was like my brain had been fried. All I could think about was waking up every morning for the past four mornings with Bella's long, shapely — and very, very _bare_ — legs tangled up with mine, and her fingers threaded loosely through my hair.

I groaned, swiping a hand over my face as I recalled how fascinatingly warm her skin had been on Tuesday morning and how her hips had shifted subtly as my hand grazed her hip, applying slight, albeit _accidental_, pressure on her skin. I'd reluctantly climbed out of the bed with a hard-on, before I had her rolled swiftly beneath me and plunging head first back into a physical relationship that I wasn't completely sure she was ready for.

Jasper's appearance on the doorstep had been a godsend. I woke Emmett and listened to Jasper's version of the "re-brief" which included Emmett making breakfast, all of which managed to shove thoughts of Bella's delectable body pressed against mine out of my head for all of… about ten minutes.

Monday night had been progress in mending the wrongs we'd both made in the past, but I knew that if Bella and I stood a chance at making it out of this mess together, then we needed to come clean. I'd expected her to argue with me, to vehemently oppose the idea of coming clean to Carlisle and Esme, but she hadn't. I'd seen the panic flare in her eyes when I'd first broached the subject, but I guess I'd underestimated how much she'd grown in such a short while.

I parked the car outside Newtons and reclined slightly in the seat, my thoughts whirling. Monday night had made me realize a lot of things and Bella's avoidance of the word "future" had made me see how hard the battle ahead of me was going to be. The break-in, the threat hanging over Bella's head and Marcus and Carmen's deaths had put things into perspective for me — I couldn't walk away from Bella a second time. Time had done nothing to lessen the intensity of my feelings for her. I loved her. I really, _really_ loved her, no matter how difficult it was to love the _new_ her. There was no fucking way I was letting her go. Not now, not ever.

The only problem was convincing the "new" Bella that not only did I love her and wasn't going to leave again, but that _she_ loved _me_, too. It meant crushing every defensive barrier that she had ever built around herself and she was going to fight me every fucking step of the way, but it would be worth it in the end.

I wouldn't have to stand at the peripheral of her heart like everyone else. I was a selfish bastard; she might not let anyone else into that heart of hers completely — not Esme, not Alice, not anyone — but I was fucking climbing in and barricading myself in there permanently. She was _mine_. Subconsciously, I'd known it from the moment we'd met in that stupid, fucked up Rainbow Club. She was the girl for me.

I watched as Bella pushed open the door to Newtons', her jacket slung over her forearm as she headed toward the car. She smiled when she caught my gaze, and I felt my heart kick gently in my chest in response.

"You look better than you did this morning," I said as she climbed into the car and strapped on her seatbelt.

"Angela gave me something to settle my stomach."

I nodded as I started the engine.

When we got back to the house, Bella headed upstairs to get changed while I walked into the living room, where Emmett had discovered the widescreen television. He had his feet propped up on the coffee table and I had half a mind to scold him, remembering how Esme's eyes had almost popped out of her head the day she caught me in the exact same position at home, but I figured I'd let Bella do the scolding. It'd be nice watching Emmett get taken down a peg or two by my girl.

"Hey." Emmett nodded, a little more curt than usual, but at least he was talking to me. He'd been abrupt with me ever since Tuesday morning when, after Jasper had driven Bella to work, he had cornered me in the kitchen.

_Emmett shot me a hard glance. "We're like brothers, right?"_

_"Right." I groaned inwardly, realizing where this was going. _

_"So the fact that you're married just slipped your brain, did it…?" It only took me a few seconds to realize how mad Emmett actually was about this. We weren't in the habit of keeping secrets this big from each other. When you worked the way we did, loyalty and trust were everything. But how could I explain that my working life and the years I'd spent wrapped up in that whole other world with Bella were completely separate in my head that way?_

_I raked a hand through my hair sheepishly. "Things just got out of hand…"_

"Hey. What's on the agenda for tonight?" I asked as I dropped down onto the recliner opposite the sofa.

"Whitlock's staying here. I'm going to the base to check out the library databases. I need to compile a list of Swan's possible identities, and people he may have angered through these aliases." Emmett hit the mute button on the remote. "This dead end is killing me."

"I know." I gritted my teeth. "I've been thinking about it, and Victoria Clare was too sloppy. She hardly seems like the type to try and blackmail a corrupt cop like Swan."

"It doesn't make sense." Emmett shook his head disgustedly. "And I've got a really bad feeling about the Marcus/Carmen deaths."

"Me, as well," I admitted grimly. "With the amount of security that Marcus has, it makes more sense that the person who took him out was the one who contacted Swan with the threats, instead of Victoria. But that doesn't make sense because their deaths aren't linked to this case and Victoria _is_."

Emmett shook his head. "You're leaping to conclusions. Their deaths aren't linked; there's nothing that could tie Swan to the Volturi except you, and that route is as much a dead end as the Victoria-Royce route."

"I know." I pinched my nose in frustration. "I really hope you find something in those databases."

"So do I."

Bella breezed downstairs a few minutes later, wearing a pair of trendy jeans and a light blue, v-necked shirt. "Hey, Emmett," she said as she popped her head in the door. "Do you want us to pick you up some dinner on the way home tonight?"

"Naw, that's okay, Bells. Thanks." He smiled at her, before shooting Jake a disgruntled look as the dog tried to climb over him in his haste to greet Bella.

Bella laughed as Jake jumped on her, knocking her back into the hall, and I heard her murmuring to him as she headed down the hallway to the kitchen. I followed after her, grabbing a dog food can from the cupboard while she picked Jake's bowl up from the floor.

"Thanks," she said as I took the bowl from her.

"Are you sure you're feeling better? Because if you really did have a stroke…"

Bella levered herself up onto the countertop, her knee brushing my waist as I set the bowl on the countertop next to her. She sighed, her eyes on my hands as I prepared Jake's dinner and I could almost hear her thinking things over. "As much as my instincts are screaming not to, I _really_ need to do this."

I glanced at her, noting the way she was biting her lip worriedly. "You're not doing this by yourself."

"I know, but…" Bella groaned in frustration. "They're going to blame _me_ for not saying something sooner. It's fine for you, with you being on a different _continent_."

A spark of anger ignited in my chest. "They're not just going to blame _you_. I'm the one who walked out on _you_ and left you to deal with things. If anything, they're going to be mad at _me_."

Bella glared at me. "Yeah, because Esme doesn't forgive you for almost anything immediately."

I placed Jake's bowl under the table, ducking quickly out of the way as he dove for it. I returned to the countertop and placed my hands either side of Bella's waist, forcing her to face me. "We're both in this mess _together_. Understand?"

Bella sighed and started nodding slowly.

"Good," I said. _It was a start._

_

* * *

_**I know I said this in the A/N I uploaded yesterday, but my sincerest apologies for delaying this chapter so long! To everyone who has kept with this story, you have no idea how grateful i am that you did!**

**Love you all!**

**Thoughts? :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:  
Hey all! Thanks so much for reviewing! I know, I can't believe it either... _another_ chapter? I noticed that for thirty minutes after I uploaded chapter 16 after the author's note, the author's note remained, so if you clicked on the link and got the note... you probably missed a whole chapter. It's there now ;) **

**Thank you so much Fragile Human! Do I really need to explain how much i love you? Let me count the ways... ;)**

**Anyway, without any further ado, I give you... chapter 17. **

**

* * *

~*~Bella~*~**

The drive to Port Angeles was excruciating. My stomach was a bundle of nerves and my hands refused to stop shaking to the point where I had to shove them between my knees. But the most painful part of the journey was the fact that Edward appeared so cool and collected, his grip on the steering wheel almost lazy in comparison with the death grip my nails had on the inside of my thighs.

I was beginning to consider the fact that I was bipolar or something because as infuriating as I found his calm poise, I found it an incredible turn on at the same time.

The last few mornings had been carefully constructed by fate to drive me completely insane. Every morning, I woke up to find my limbs entangled with his, his breath caressing my skin and every long, lean inch of his body folded around mine like a security blanket. My fingers itched to slide along the taut muscles on his abdomen, to test how firm they really were, to feel how they undulated as he breathed. My lips practically puckered every time I thought of each inch of skin I could slowly expose if I faked a stretch… for the first time in six years, I was acutely aware of the fact that I hadn't had sex in, well, _six years_.

And if there was one thing that Edward and I had been good at six years ago, it was sex.

As distracting as thinking about sex with Edward was, it made the journey all the more excruciating because wherever we stood now, it was definitely _not_ appropriate to lean over casually and place my hand on his crotch.

Not that that was something I had ever thought about doing… well, not six years ago, anyway.

By the time we reached the turn off for Carlisle and Esme's house, I couldn't decide whether I was nervous, nauseous or incredibly horny — or all three.

And Edward was still insufferably calm.

Serene. Placid.

Everything I was most certainly _not_.

"Ready?" I whispered as he turned off the engine.

"As I'll ever be."

I stepped out of the car without waiting for Edward to open my door. He didn't like that, though he didn't say anything. He fidgeted slightly with the car keys — the only sign he showed of being even somewhat discomfited — and as minute as the action seemed, I found it a little reassuring that he wasn't as calm about this as I thought.

I glanced around, noticing that Alice's red Beetle was parked alongside Esme and Carlisle's cars. I probably should have expected that she'd show up for dinner tonight as well, but my anxiety spiked a little in spite of all that. Steeling myself, I started walking up the front steps, ahead of Edward.

The door swung open before I had a chance to ring the doorbell.

"Hey, you two!" Alice sang as she burst onto the porch. She grabbed hold of both us, pulling into a surprisingly strong hug, before releasing us and grabbing my hand. "Oh my God, Bella! You won't _believe_ this…"

I shot Edward a pleading glance, but he just shrugged his shoulders a little helplessly as Alice dragged me away from the doorway, toward the living room. Ugh. He had never been able to say "no" to Alice.

I let her push me down onto the sofa, a little perturbed by the smug grin on her face.

"Um…" She suddenly sobered up, her smile falling. "Bella, are you okay about me — about Jasper and I?"

"I — Yeah, of course," I said reassuringly. "We're just friends, Alice."

"Oh." Her smile returned. "Good. It's just, we went out again on Thursday night and we really hit it off and… anyway, I really owe you, Bells. You _did_ introduce us, after all."

I shook my head. "You don't owe me anything! Honestly, I'm just really happy you both found each other."

"But _still_," Alice insisted. "If you hadn't asked him to go with you, we never would have met."

I shrugged. "You probably would have if you visited." I narrowed my eyes at her. "I know you hate my house and everything, but you _can_ visit me."

Alice rolled her eyes impatiently. "I don't hate your house. I just think it's a bit big for you and stuck in the middle of nowhere, where you have absolutely no chance of meeting anyone. Speaking of —"

"Alice, we've been through this. You're _not_ putting my profile up on Twilight." I shot her a quelling look that she promptly ignored with a wave of her hand.

"It doesn't matter." She beamed at me. "I've already found your Mr. Right."

"You — wait, _what?"_ Surprise bloomed in my chest, overriding the nausea that had been lurking near the surface.

Alice was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she said, "His name's Austin. He's a teacher in Port Angeles and he is the sweetest man I've —"

"Alice, I _told_ you that I didn't want you setting me up on any more dates," I growled, a feeling of distinct unease rising in my throat.

"I know, but…" She trailed off, gesturing wildly. "I really, _really_ think that this guy is perfect for you. You know I wouldn't insist if I didn't think —"

"Alice, I _can't_."

Alice shot me a curious glance, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I know that the date with Eric didn't go so well but if you gave Austin a chance…"

"Alice, I _really, really_ can't…" I exhaled slowly, gathering my courage. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about tonight."

Alice frowned. "You found a guy? You did, didn't you? You're seeing someone and you didn't tell me!" I couldn't tell whether she was excited or annoyed at the prospect; but I couldn't dwell on her reaction. I had to get this over and done with before I lost my nerve.

"I — I think that we should get Carlisle and Esme first," I said slowly. "And Edward," I added as an afterthought.

Alice nodded in understanding. I followed her out into the hallway where Edward was standing, his hands folded loosely over his chest. He shot me a questioning glance that I answered with a pointed look at the dining room, where Esme was flitting around the table.

She looked up and smiled as we made our entrance. "I thought that was you outside. Dinner's almost ready. Carlisle's just gathering the wine glasses."

"Mom!" Alice exclaimed. "Bella's seeing someone!" Her enthusiasm bit into my emotions like a knife, and the guilt that flooded my body was overwhelming. I'd known, on some level, that Alice and Esme worried incessantly over how alone I seemed to be, locked up in my little house in the middle of nowhere. The hopeful glint in Esme's eyes as her gaze flicked in my direction only confirmed my suspicions and my guilt deepened.

"A-actually, maybe, um — Carlisle, can you come in here, please?"

He appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, five wine glasses balanced precariously in his hands as he glanced at Alice, who was practically bouncing on the spot with anticipation, before looking at me.

"Is everything all right, Bella?" he asked concernedly, probably noticing how green I undoubtedly looked.

"Peachy," I croaked.

_"Bella_," Alice whined. "The suspense —"

I flinched in surprise as a hand grazed mine and I took it without thinking, my fingers lacing through Edward's as though it was the most natural thing to do in the world. It _felt_ like the most natural thing to do in the world.

I couldn't look at him. Nausea, fear, anxiety and guilt warred for dominance and I was abruptly terrified at how much I was relying on him to get through this without having a mental breakdown.

Alice's eyes dropped to our joined hands, her mouth opening in a silent "O" of shock and comprehension. A heartbeat later, both Carlisle and Esme noticed the same thing and a thunderous silence reigned for a long, painful moment.

Then —

"Oh my God." Alice slapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my G —You two?" Her eyes grew round as she stared at our hands.

Esme glanced at Carlisle, her mouth opening several times though no words came out. Even Carlisle seemed at a loss for something to say.

I hadn't anticipated their reaction to _this_ part of the story; the idea that Edward and I might be a couple _now_. Considering the bond we'd shared when we were younger, was it that much of a leap to consider that we might have been linked _romantically_? But then, because we'd never said anything, maybe Carlisle and Esme — and even Alice — had misinterpreted all the signs from the very beginning.

"Actually, that's not it," Edward said, his voice shaking slightly. His face was clear, composed, though I knew that he was anything but; his hand was squeezing mine so tight that I had lost all feeling in the tips of my fingers.

"What do you mean?" Carlisle asked. His eyes flickered between us, trying to understand what both of us were trying to say.

"We, that is, we, um…"

"Bella and I got married on January fourteenth, in 2003," Edward stated, like he was rattling off information at a court case. His hands shook as he reached inside his black shirt and pulled out the chain with his wedding ring on it, like they might need proof.

Esme gasped, her eyes widening as she stared at the ring in Edward's hand.

"Oh my —" Alice's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. "I can't — I can't _believe_ —!" Her voice shook — with _anger_, I realized. She shot me a venomous glare before she stormed out of the room, whipping past us so fast that my hair blew over my shoulder.

A second later, I flinched as the front door slammed shut and the sound of a car engine permeated the silence outside.

My stomach rolled and only Edward's presence at my side kept me from throwing up my lunch all over the floor.

"Well…" Esme looked a little pale. "I can't say I was expecting that."

"Esme, I'm so, _so_ sorry —!" I blurted out.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, glancing imploringly at her fiancé for help. Carlisle looked as stunned as she did. He was staring at the ring in the palm of Edward's hand like it would somehow explain six years of silence, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

At least they weren't yelling, I thought with little relief. The guilt I felt at having lied to them intensified as I replayed Alice's reaction, watching her storm out the door, her face contorted with anger. I understood her reaction. We were supposed to be best friends. This was the kind of thing that best friends told each other.

"I think we should sit down," Carlisle suggested. He pushed gently on Esme's elbow, guiding her toward the table. Edward and I followed, dropping down into the chairs opposite Esme's.

"2003…?" Esme said slowly. "You've been married for over six years?"

I nodded numbly, aware of Edward doing the same.

"Why… how? How did you…?" Esme hands flailed helplessly as she struggled put her confusion into words.

I glanced at Edward before taking a deep breath. "Maybe we should start at the beginning. Remember the Rainbow Club?"

**

* * *

~Edward~**

Alice didn't return for dinner. Despite her reaction, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief at having everything out in the open. I hadn't realized how much of a burden it had been to lie to my Dad; I _had_ been lying to him since just after we got to Seattle after Mom died, so the surge of relief that flooded my system when Bella and I finally stopped talking took me by surprise.

Dinner was quiet. Carlisle and Esme were still trying to process the information while Bella concentrated on not bringing her food back up. She played with her vegetables absently, her eyes flicking to the window every so often with guilt lurking in her expression.

After dinner, Esme and Bella took the plates into the kitchen, leaving Carlisle and I alone out on the verandah where Bella and I had had our first serious conversation since I got back. The night was warm, a gentle breeze whistling through the trees, and I watched distractedly as wisps of Carlisle's grey hair fluttered in the wind.

"I'm disappointed in you, Edward," Carlisle said finally. "In both of you."

I nodded, having expected as much. I sighed, leaning back against the railing with my back to the garden. I could see Esme and Bella moving around the kitchen wordlessly. There was a worried pucker between Bella's brows and her lips were pursed, her mind obviously elsewhere as she helped Esme load the dishwasher. "We were stupid kids. I know that's not an excuse, but…"

"We didn't even know that you and Bella were involved," Carlisle pointed out. "We thought you were dating Carmen all through high school and college, until you joined the Volturi recruitment camp."

"Carmen and I broke up before I went to college," I offered. "I — We didn't get together until after the night that… Bella ended things with Seth Clearwater." I winced at the memory of that night, my thoughts lingering masochistically on the way his hands had been all over her in her prom dress before we both beat the crap out of him. I shrugged, trying to dislodge the memory. "I think I loved her before that. Maybe the first time we met." A burst of warmth shot through me as I recalled her thirteen-year-old self, her nose scrunched up as she stared at the ceiling of the Rainbow Room, explaining why she was in there in the first place. "Definitely the first time we met."

Carlisle shook his head, like he was finding it difficult to understand what I was saying. "I just don't understand why you two felt that you had to hide this from us."

"It started innocently," I tried to explain. "We had to swear not to betray each other's trust at the Rainbow meetings and we grew so used to telling each other everything and excluding everyone else from our conversations that it became second nature to us to keep everything private. I think, at the time, it didn't even occur to us that we _should_ tell you."

"I know you didn't mean any harm by it — but you can understand why Esme and I, even Alice, are upset, can't you? It wasn't just a secret relationship. You got _married_." Carlisle sighed, staring out over the garden as he tried to sort through his thoughts. "Are you still married?"

"We never filed for a formal separation," I admitted. "I never really thought about it once I was in training. It was never a consideration because I didn't get involved with anyone else — and neither did she."

"Edward, when you left, she was destroyed. You realize that, don't you?" Carlisle frowned, turning to face me. "I didn't want to say this, but in light of what you've both just told me, I think you should know. Esme and I have been extremely worried about her. She rarely goes out with Alice or Rosalie, I can count her friends on one hand, she's working at a dead end job because she chose not to go to college. Her house is haunted by memories of a broken childhood."

I swallowed, pain lancing through me, even though I'd already _seen_ this for myself.

"Esme and I never understood how close you two were. We couldn't understand how Bella could go from being a bright, vibrant teenager to a – to half a person. She's _broken_, Edward. Maybe it's not obvious to you but it's painfully obvious to Esme and I. Alice has tried her best, but…"

"I know." I inclined my head, though my eyes were on her. I had already acknowledged what Carlisle was telling me for myself, but hearing him say the words made me consider how other people perceived Bella's appearance — people who didn't know her as well as I did. And there was a… _deadness_… about her. She didn't laugh like she did before. She withdrew into herself when she was feeling angry or sad. "I don't know what to do, Dad. I can make her mad enough to spit fire and stop withdrawing into herself, but when she calms down, we're back to square one."

"She needs to heal," Carlisle said quietly. "She's blocked away all the hurt and pain inside of her since her Dad walked out without fully experiencing it and moving on from it. It's a defense mechanism, but one that is doing her more damage in the long run."

"I _know_ that. But what can I _do_?" I raked a hand through my hair in frustration. "I hate seeing her like this. I remember how she was before. I _loved_ how she was before. I _still_ love her, but sometimes I want to throttle her until she just…" I realized that my fists had clenched unconsciously and I forced myself to relax my knuckles. "Sometimes she yells at me and I feel like crying with relief because she's Bella again. _My_ Bella."

"If I knew what to do, Edward," Carlisle said tiredly, "we wouldn't be having this conversation."

I nodded, gritting my teeth, but it wasn't the answer I needed to hear.

"But you've only been here a week," Carlisle said gently. "Give her time. Just don't… mess with her, Edward. Not if you don't intend to stick around once your, er, _job_ is finished."

"She's my wife," I said, unaware of the pride laced in my tone. "I didn't know what that meant when I married her, but I fucking know _now_. I'm not letting her go. Not without one hell of a fight."

Carlisle nodded, clapping my shoulder gently. "Then, good luck. And congratulations, I guess."

He smiled wryly before turning on his heel and striding back into the house.

* * *

Bella was quiet as she climbed into the passenger seat, waving goodbye to Esme with a trace of warmth in her expression. She didn't notice that we were driving in the wrong direction until the bright lights of Port Angeles jerked her out of her thoughts and she glanced at me questioningly. "Is something wrong? Are we being followed or something?" Her gaze flitted nervously to the back window.

"No, we're good," I said reassuringly. "I just wanted to see something."

"See something?" Bella narrowed her eyes at me. "We're not driving to Alice's, are we? Because I'm pretty sure she'll never talk to me again…"

"No, we're not going to Alice's." I reached over and clasped her hand. Her skin was surprisingly cool. "She'll come around, Bel. She loves you."

"I still _lied_ to her."

"We both did." I nudged her thigh with our joined hands. "Hey, think positively. Carlisle and Esme know."

"I don't think Esme took it well. After the shock wore off, I think she felt betrayed."

Bella had obviously worked herself into a funk and I realized I was going to have my work cut out for me, pulling her out of it.

Her eyes widened slightly when we reached our destination. She didn't move as I climbed out of the car, darting swiftly around the hood to open her door. Her brow puckered as she glanced around, perplexed, and stepped out of the car into the parking lot.

"What are we doing here?"

"You'll see." I grinned mischievously and started walking in the direction of the gate, without waiting to see if she would follow. I knew she would. She wouldn't be able to resist.

"We're trespassing!" she hissed, grabbing my arm as I went to climb over the stone wall. She glanced around furtively, as if she expected a security guard to show up any second.

I rolled my eyes. "So?"

Sneaking around with her like this made me feel like a teenager again. It was laughable that I actually had an adrenaline rush as I climbed over the wall like I'd done so many times before in my past; considering the life or death situations that I'd previously found myself in, trespassing on the grounds of my old high school was pretty tame.

I started walking across the front lawn, leaving Bella no choice but to follow me or get caught waiting for me to return at the entrance. I had my car keys stowed in my pocket and the car was locked, so she had nowhere to hide if a security guard did show up.

I snickered under my breath when I heard her curse, turning just in time to see her drop from the top of the wall. She hit the ground with a quiet thump, her expression unamused.

"This is a terrible idea," she whispered loudly as she jogged across the grass to where I was standing.

"Like you haven't done this before," I scoffed. "I seem to remember you sneaking —"

Bella thumped my arm in annoyance. "You promised you'd never bring that up again!"

I snickered at her indignant expression. "I did no such thing."

"You _did_, you idiotic — _brat_!"

The lock on the gym door was the same, rusty lock that had been there when Bella and I had attended PA High School. I had it open in just under fifteen seconds and I pushed open the gym doors, ignoring Bella's protests.

"We're going to get arrested!"

"Oh, shut up and stop being such a baby," I muttered. "Since when are you such a chicken?"

Bella froze, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. "You did _not_ just call me a chicken."

I rolled my eyes, gesturing inside the dark gym. "Are you coming in or not?"

She stared at me, her teeth grinding with fury, and made no move to step inside. It had been much easier convincing her sixteen-year-old self that breaking and entering was a good idea, I remembered. Even when she'd been at her most stubborn.

"Just pretend I'm about four inches smaller with black hair, and a mission to show you the stars," I grinned, deliberately goading her. "Oh, and don't forget — I'm more than a little _drunk_."

"Cullen, I'm going to fucking _kill_ you!"

With a final sweep of the school grounds, she lunged inside after me. Laughing loudly, I sprinted into the dark gym, a wave of smug victory racing through my veins as she slammed the doors shut and followed me inside.

Our footsteps echoed noisily in the otherwise silent hall as she sprinted after me, making several death threats when I climbed nimbly over the steps to the stage area, disappearing behind the heavy, navy curtain.

"Cullen!" she shrieked.

"What?"

"You tricked me," she said accusingly.

I shoved the curtain back and leaned against the wall, folding my arms over my chest loosely. "I did no such thing. It's not my fault you can't control your temper."

"You promised you wouldn't make fun of me for that night!"

"Oh, you mean the night that Clearwater introduced you to second base?" I waggled by brows suggestively at her.

"Why do I bother telling you anything?"

"Because I'm so irresistible?" I smirked.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Wow, you don't have a high opinion of yourself at _all_." Her voice was thick with honeyed sarcasm.

"I really don't," I teased. "_You _do."

Bella shot me a withering look and gave me the finger.

"Come up here."

I thought she might shake her head and continue to glare at me from the gym floor five steps below me, but she just rolled her eyes and huffed as she started up the stairs.

I grabbed her hand as she hit the top stair, and spun her around until she was half-hidden behind the navy curtain, her back pressed up against the wall.

"Do you remember?" I murmured, my eyes gleaming as I stared down at her, deliberately invading her space.

Her breathing hitched and her glare softened, her brown eyes glazing over slightly as I braced my arm on the wall above her head. The darkness suddenly felt electric. I was hyperaware of how close we were standing, with only a sliver of space between our hips.

I inhaled the strawberry scent of her hair, prolonging the long, agonizing moment as my senses flared to life; everywhere our skin almost touched, the air tingled with electricity and my eyes raked greedily over her face, drinking in her reaction to our closeness.

"Do you remember?" I repeated.

"Remember… what?" she whispered. Her eyes dropped to my mouth and she bit her lip hesitantly. My fingers curled into tight fists as I forced myself to remain in control of the situation.

"Second base," I murmured. I dipped my head, brushing my lips along her temple in a featherlike caress as I inhaled the scent of her skin. "With Clearwater."

"I know what you're doing," she whispered suddenly, her lips tilting upwards as she smiled slyly.

"Oh, yeah?" I cocked my brow at her.

"Yep. It always bugged you that the gym was the one place you never managed to seduce me in, and that when I was here, I was more likely to think of being here with Seth than you." She grinned, absurdly proud with the conclusion she had drawn.

It didn't bother me in the slightest that she was one hundred per cent correct.

I trailed the knuckles of my right hand over her collarbone, finally daring to touch her. She sucked in a breath, her chocolate-brown eyes widening slightly as she returned my stare.

"Admit it," I said softly. "When you're with me you can't even remember what he looked like."

She arched her brow at me, scoffing at my cocky tone, but I knew her better than anyone. My cockiness was turning her on.

I curled my forefinger around the top button of her blouse and popped it open.

Her lips parted in surprise.

"I remember second base with _you_," she admitted, her eyes darkening. Her hands crept up my sides, her forefingers curling around the belt loops on my jeans. There was a note of insecurity in her voice that held my attention. I hated that she was nervous about admitting that to me, but glad that she'd taken the chance at the same time.

"Good answer," I grinned huskily. My lips skimmed the shell of her ear and I felt her breathing pick up against my throat. Her hands tightened on my jeans.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"Kiss me. Please."

It was the please that did it for me. Without another word, I crushed my lips to hers; breathing in the heat and sweet taste that was Bella and everything I wanted.

I raked my fingers through her hair as she skimmed her hands up over my shoulders and around my neck, dragging me closer, tugging on the collar of my shirt, crushing her lips fiercely against mine.

My right hand curled into a fist in her hair as I secured her head against mine. Heat and desire surged through me and I could feel myself hardening at an alarming rate as all the blood rushed to my cock. Her body arched and pressed against mine, sending shivers down up my spine.

"Want you," I said roughly, as though she didn't already feel the proof.

She sighed, her lips parting, and I took advantage of the opportunity, my tongue delving inside the warmth of her mouth. I could taste her hot breath; feel the acute pressure of her body against mine. Want or need — I could never tell the difference with her — surged through my veins, trapping me in a haze of heat and pressure and just… _Bella._

This wasn't like kissing her in her kitchen. She wasn't reassuring herself that I wasn't shot and I wasn't angry at her for disobeying my orders. I felt the years being stripped away until we were both two hormonal teenagers again, caught up in emotions too powerful for either of us to comprehend.

Our lips swiftly found a synchronized rhythm, our loud breaths and pounding heartbeats tearing through the silence.

My brain had completely shut off. All I knew was that I had to have her. I had to be in her, possessing her, claiming her. She was mine and my instincts were screaming at me to prove that to her.

I wound my fingers into her hair more securely and kissed her hungrily, breathing in the essence of everything Bella; her smell, her taste, her soft, breathless moans… My grip loosened as her nails dragged down my neck, shivers erupting down my spine, and my hands began to travel down her sides, tracing and relearning every contour that I had memorized so many times already.

She was different, but she was the same.

I trailed blisteringly hot kisses over her mouth, her chin, to her jaw. She moaned, arching against me and I could feel her nails digging into my skin.

The sound of the gym doors slamming suddenly echoed throughout the hall.

I cursed silently under my breath. My concentration was shot whenever I was around her; how the fuck did I think I could protect her when I lost my head so easily around her and failed to measure the situation correctly?

I forced myself to enter my stealth mode. Bella had frozen against me, her breathing barely audible as she shot me a panicked glance.

I dipped my head and whispered, "Ssh."

Through the curtain, I watched as a torch light skimmed over the stage and a pair of footsteps made their way into the building.

"There's an emergency exit behind us," I murmured softly in Bella's ear. "When I say go, we're going to run for it, okay?"

She nodded slowly, though her expression was uncertain.

The footsteps started in our direction and her breath hitched.

"_Go_."

I grabbed her hand and sprinted into the black darkness behind us, away from the windows and pale moonlight spilling across the wooden floorboards.

I faintly heard the security guard start running for the stage behind us as we scrambled for the emergency exit door, followed by Bella's shriek of startled laughter as I forced the door open and stumbled out into the night.

We ran for the car without looking back, ignoring the guard as he burst through the emergency door and started shouting indignantly at us.

"I can't _believe_ I let you talk me into going in there!" Bella exclaimed as we reached the car. "We almost got arrested!"

I unlocked the car and slid inside, my breathing quiet and even. Bella, however, was obviously experiencing an adrenaline rush because her hands were fidgeting as she tried to pull on her seatbelt and her eyes were darting feverishly around the car.

"Don't act like you didn't have fun," I grinned.

"We could have gotten in serious trouble!" she insisted, her mood sobering.

I experienced a stab of worry as the light started to dim in her eyes. I started the engine, trying to remember what Carlisle had said — she needed _time_ to heal. It wasn't going to just happen overnight, as much as I wanted it to. Tonight might have been a diversion, but we still had to go back to Forks and to reality.

Bella was quiet for the rest of the ride home, after the adrenaline wore off. She stared out the window of the car with her forehead pressed up against the glass, her shoulders slightly hunched.

I wanted to reach over and throttle her — or kiss her again — but the inclination faded as I pulled into her driveway and cut the engine because as she reached for the door handle, I caught the faint smile playing at her lips in the car door mirror and I knew that tonight hadn't been for nothing; it had definitely been a stab in the right direction.

"Hey, Bel."

She glanced at me, her cheeks coloring faintly. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember, now?"

"God, you're such a _loser_!"

And with that, she slammed the car door shut, drowning out the sound of my laughter.

* * *

**Thoughts? Questions? Review, please? :)**


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